


Righteous Man

by Lucifirs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifirs/pseuds/Lucifirs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel goes to save the Righteous Man from Hell, things take an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Raised From Perdition

Castiel had never really fit in with his family. His brothers and sisters were so...  _obedient_. It was almost sickening to Castiel, watching them blindly follow his fathers orders like dogs. Not that Castiel ever showed his displeasure; Lucifer was a reminder of how rebllion would work out. So he stayed quiet. Always holding his tongue, never speaking his mind and following orders despite the fact that it just felt all over wrong. He hated being tossed around and used.

Constantly, Castiel would look down upon Earth and wonder how it felt to be free. Or at least, have an illusion of freedom. Heaven just didn't suit Castiel. He felt much too different to ever belong here. "You have too much heart, Castiel." His siblings would say. "You're much too human to be an angel". Castiel hardly understood how he could be 'too human'. He was a multidemensional wavelength of celestial intent. That's about as far from human as you can get.

~~~ 

It wasn't until The Righteous Man had entered Hell that Castiel's life _truly_  began. He remembered Michael coming to him pleading: "Castiel, we're sending a group to Hell to save Dean Winchester." He began. "I'd like you to go as well." Michael gave Castiel a hard, demanding gaze. There was no room for argument here.  

At first, Castiel was annoyed. Hell? Why would he want to go there? Michael's vessel was no concern of his. Why should he risk his life to go and save him? But the pleading in Michaels voice had won him over. 

"Yes, brother." Castiel replied. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. No doubt Father was behind this anyway. So, down to Hell he went. It took years of hard work and fighting, but finally he made it. The entire time, Castiel was mulling over this Dean Winchester. Why was he worth saving? It was true, he was Michaels vessel, but Castiel was sure he had brothers or a father Michael could use for a short time? If he was really going to fight Lucifer, then he wouldn't need a vessel for long. Lucifer was mind blowingly powerful. 

Hell was a lot different than Castiel expected. In his mind, he always had this image of volcanic ash plaguing the air, lava slinking beneath his feet, horrifying screams of sinners all round him and fire. More fire than anyone could possible imagine. He imagined bodies and mangled souls hanging about him, both in cages and in chains. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before viewing his surroundings.

Instead, He found himself in a sort of metallic hallway with cages lined up along the walls. The air was frigid, clinging and sticking to Castiel. The only part of Castiel's imagination that was correct was the screams. Agonizing shrieks and gurgled pleas echoed madly around him. Castiel struggled to keep from covering his ears, and instead pushed his shoulders back and held his head high. He was an  _Angel_. He was strong. He could do this. Castiel needed to be intimidating to sucessfully resue Dean Winchester in one piece, or at least assist the sibling of his that would.It was surprisingly dark around him, with just enough glow to show shadows and the ominous gleen of eyes. Some were red, some yellow, some white and some that were just.. dark. Castiel paid no attention to these, and just marched along the cold, metal below him and his fellow soilders. 

Deep wisps of  black smoke would slink out of an unknown source, and fill the air around him. They danced frighteningly around the angels, swirling and teasing them. It wasn't until one brushed up against him that he recognized what they were. 

"Demons!" Castiel called out, pulling out a demon blade. Around him his brothers and sisters did the same, crying out commands and swinging their blades madly.

~~

Breathless, Castiel slumped to the cool floor. The bodies of his fallen brethern lay about him, rotting with the darkness and animalistic atmosphere. Everywhere was metal and blood. Cages hung from every possible place, rusting and dripping with unknown fluids. Castiel was too horrified to notice the smells and the extreme temperatures. Still, the souls screamed on and with them was a low voice. Demonic laughter cackled away in the distance; not very close but not nearly far enough. 

Castiel choked back a sob and struggled to his feet. He needed to reach Dean Winchester. He needed to crawl through this darkness and raise him from perdition. He had gone from following orders to  _needing_  to do this. He  _had_  to get to Dean, and he had to get to him now. Already, eyes were beginning to appear around him again. Castiel let out a deep breath of air. He was a soilder of God. He was an Angel of a Lord; he could do this... Even if he was the only one left...

So, onward Castiel staggered, his left hand grappling the cold, stone wall and his right gripping his blade with a desperate tightness. He was growing stronger with every step, and soon, he was able to move at his normal speed. The cages and victims rushed past him in a blur, their voices getting lost in the little wind he was leaving behind him in his trail. His Wings beat senselessly, rushing him forward even faster, but not to the point where he could fly. That would definitely draw attention.

After what felt like hours, Castiel came upon an especially large cage. It's bars were thick and strong with almost no rust adorning their cold, unmarked shafts. It towered above Castiel, and a low groaning noise came from inside. This, without a doubt, was where Dean was held. With a new found urgency, Castiel burst through the bars  like a knife through butter. He fluttered his wings, propelling him forward into the cell. It was darker than the outside, and colder. Castiel shivered and raised his eyes up to the glowing ceiling. He fell back in wonder, and gaped at what hung before him. 

It was the brightest, most pure and awe-inspiring soul Castiel had ever seen. Sure, millions of souls entered heaven, but absolutely none of them could compare to this. It glowed and shone with such a strong goodness that Castiel's wings fell flat against his back humbly. Normally, Castiel was quite proud, but this soul made him look... well... insignificant. It danced and sparkled in the dark like a burning star. The edges were a little burnt and frayed, but they did not dim down the brilliance. It was a moment before Castiel could gather himself to save him. Despite Dean's brilliance, they were still in danger. 

"Hello, Dean" He whispered. "Do not be afraid. I am here to save you-" 

Suddenly, The burn marks stretched out, consuming the light and strength from Dean. It smoldered away the goodness, the wellness and everything that made Dean the amazing human he was. It crumbled and cracked, leaving nothing but a dark cloud of spinning and dancing black smoke. Castiel cried out, flying forward and grabbing the remnants of Dean's soul with his angelic embrace. It stung his hands, marking them with black soot and the stench of sulfure. 

"Dean.. No, no..." He sobbed, clutching the struggling smoke close against him. "I'll fix this, Righteous Man. I promise..." 

~~~

The mind numbing pain was begginning to get bareable when something had suddenly burst throught he confinements of Dean's prison. He turned, hooks digging into his shoulder and hip like a searing fire as he moved. He held back a shout of agony and blinked the white spots from his already cloudy vision. Blood poured endlessly from his wounds, splattering onto the ground beneath him with an eery splat. A bright, glowing shape, adorned with massive black wings hovered across from him. Dean's stomach dropped, and he blinked several times. 

What the _fuck_  was that? 

It was like a white and blue fire, burning and raging in front of him... Brilliant, black glossy wings folded themselves up, and laid flat against this amazing creature.

"Hello?" Dean tried to call out without much luck. His vocal cords had been shredded with his screams and pleas, now leaving him incapable of a normal speaking voice. He bit his lip and squirmed slightly in his hooks. There was definitely something good about this thing... It couldn't be a demon. Last time Dean had checked, no demon he knew had fucking raven wings growing out of its back. With sore eyes, Dean squinted hard at this creature, and found under its glow, there was a definite human shape to this. Was this another person? Lucifer?

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly cut off with a new sensation burning away at his limbs. It was a sort of tingling pain, that sent shots of horrid pleasure down Deans veins.  What the hell? He wasn't given much time to ponder this when the thing before him spoke. 

"Hello Dean." It's voice crashed throughout the prison, soft yet hard at the same time. It was more powerful than any thunder Dean had ever heard, more gentle than any rain, and more pleasing than any song sung by man. The tingling pleasure raced up Dean's skin, and began to literally eat  away at him. A new terror broke him out of the trance this voice had put him in and thin wisps of black smoke fluttered around him. His limbs began to fade away, and the world around him grew hazy and dark.

The last thing Dean Winchester ever heard was the beautiful voice of Castiel whispering to him; 

"Do not be afraid... I'm here to save you-" 


	2. Back in Black

When Castiel returned to heaven, Michael wasn't pleased to say the least. Castiel had stumbled weakly into the gates of Heaven and fallen to his knees with a hard thud. He was exhausted beyond the point of caring, and the only thing that was floating through his dazed mind was the image of Dean Winchester... The cry of terror he had bleated as his humanity crumbled away, leaving him as nothing more than a demon... Castiels stomach lurched, and he stuggled to keep his breathing even. 

Michael approached Castiel slowly, frowning curiously as Castiel was alone and heaving upon the floor. 

"Castiel?" He said. 

"Michael!" Castiel gasped, struggling to his feet. Sweat was beading on his glowing skin, and he trembled with the effort it took to stand. Grimacing, Castiel set his shoulders back and raised his chin in a defiant matter. Michael's gaze hardened. 

"Did you do it?" He asked, ignoring Castiel's poor condition. 

"Yes... Brother..." Castiel stammered. 

"Good." Michael reach out and patted Castiel's shoulder in an awkward way. He smiled slightly, and gave Castiel one more hard look before he turned on his heels and walked off. Castiel suppressed to urge to wipe off his shoulder and roll his eyes, and instead let out a long breath of air. Still, the image of Dean burned away in his mind. Castiel couldn't just leave Dean, especially after what had happened. 

About him, the other angels moved about their normal daily routines. A low buzz of talk hummed around Castiel, and he glared down at his feet. No doubt they were talking about him. They could be so heartless.... They didn't seem to care that hundreds of their siblings had  _died_. He shook his head in disgust and flew off. 

It was a few minutes before Castiel landed in his favourite place of Heaven. It was a bright, vibrant meadow that was teeming with wildflowers of evey imaginable colour. They dotted the grass like little points of light, or stars in the night sky. A few plain boulders littered the grassy plains, and a sun above him shone at just the perfect intensity. The sky was a soft, light blue that oddly reminded Castiel of clear waters. It was a real paradise; the eternal Sunday afternoon. Everytime Castiel came here, he would smile and relish in it's peace. Birds sang sweet songs around him, and he took a seat in a soft patch of moss. It cushioned him perfectly. The sun beat down on him in a comfortable manner, and he laid down against the grass. He stretched his great wings out, extending them to their full length and resting them back against the ground beneath him. After that ordeal in Hell, he thought he deserved some nice downtime...

Through the high of this paradise, the though of Dean Winchester resurfaced... The black wisps and the glowing fire contrasting until the darkness had won.... Castiel began to wonder if Dean had awoken yet, and if he was alright... If he remebered what happened. With wings beating in sudden urgency, Castiel flew off. 

~~~

Suddenly, Dean woke up. He gasped in a long, trembling breaths and clutched his chest. His eyes burst open wide, searching his surroundings in a wild panic. All around him was a bottomless black, and it reeked with the metallic sting of the earth. He wrinked his nose, and attempted to sit up.

_Wham!_  

Dean's head crashed against hard wood, and he fell back, wincing slightly. It didn't hurt as much as he would have expected, and suddenly his blood ran cold... Was he still dead? Was he buried alive? Was he just in a different part of hell? He wasn't quite sure. He shifted slightly again, this time carefully, and felt around with his hands. He was caged in a thick wooden box that was slightly frigid to the touch. Yep, he was definitely in a coffin. But, why was he alive? If only he had some sort of a light source... Dean patted his pockets desperately, and found in his back pocket was his lighter.  _Thank God._.. 

A bright, small flame illuminated Dean's surroundings with the flick of his thumb and he gazed around in wonder. It was still mostly dark, but at least he was certain of where he was. He looked anxiously down at his body, and was immensly relieved to find it still in tact. He couldn't have been in Hell for all that long... Now,  he just had to get out of here. With another flick of his thumb, Dean closed the lighter, and shoved it back in his pocket. 

Dad's training was flowing through his mind as he began to punch through the wood. 

_Alright, Dean, I'm going to put you in here for a little while... Dont worry, I'll be right here okay?_

_But Dad..._

_No buts, Dean. You'll need to be ready for anything. Now, climb in and I'll lower you down. Are you ready?_

_Yes, sir._

Suddenly, dirt piled into the coffin, filling up Dean's mouth and nose, and crushing him with unimaginable strength. He gritted his teeth, and clawed madly through the mounds of earth that were ontop of him. It was strangely like swimming, just with less water and a higher chance of dying. Although Dean's mouth and nose were clogged with dirt, he found the strange burning desire for air wasn't there. He was just as comfortable not breathing as he was before. Strange... 

_That's it Dean! Pretend you're swimming, son!_

A few beams of light flitted down in between balls of dirt, and Dean desperately kicked and pushed himself up to meet them. He could still hear Dad's voice barking orders at him in the back of his mind, urging him on and keeping his mind in focus. Finally, his hands broke through the surface of the ground, and he clawed anxiously at the air. 

_Just one more heave, Dean. Come on, what are you? A girl? Hurry up._  

With that last insult, it didn't take Dean long to haul himself up and out onto the hard, grassy ground. The sun's light was blinding, and Dean flopped down to the grass, sweating and gasping before his eyes could even begin to adjust. He was trembling, but surprisingly, he wasn't all that tired. He lifted himself easily off the ground and dusted off as much of the dirt and mud as he could off himself. His clothes were a mess, and his skin was stained brown. Maybe his sweat would wash a decent portion of the mess off. Dean stretched out his muscles out as much as he could, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Holy shit, it was fucking hot out. 

With squinting eyes, Dean took in his surroundings. The ground was dusty, with bits of grass poking through. There were trees surrounding him in a big circle except... They had falled over, like some great force had rushed down around Dean and exploded around him. Everywhere he looked, the grass was scorched and dead. It sent small shivers of fear down his spine, and ran cold through his blood. Something big and nasty must have pulled him from the pit. Dean wasn't looking forward to finding out what it was. Instead, he pulled off his shirt, tied it around his waist and began to walk along the trees in search of a town where he could call Bobby or Sam. 

~~~

Finally, stumbling and gasping, Dean came upon a small gas station along the long stretch of highway. It was a humble little building, with only two gas pumps. The windows were dark and glossy, so Dean rushed forward, hoping that it was closed. He'd have to do a little bit of a robbery seeing as he had no cash on him. Dean sauntered to the door. With a shaking hand he grasped the knob and tugged. It was locked.

"Damn" He whispered hoarsly, the words clawing against his parched tongue. He really needed a break. 

Dean clenched his hands up into a fist, and wrapped his sweat-stained shirt around his skin. Then, he burst it through the glass of the door and let out a small victorious shout. He picked away the glass, and reached inside, unlocking the door and twisting it open. Inside, the air was cool and refreshing. Dean took a moment to stand there, eyes closed and arms up relishing in the air conditioning. As he cooled off, Dean headed straight for the bottled water in the fridge at the back. The water soothed his ragged throat, and cooled off his mouth. 

As Dean wandered around the store, a low sort of whining buzz had appeared in the air. At first, he ignored it, but eventually it had grown higher in pitch and volume, and began to ring painfully in his ears. He grimaced and rubbed at his ears with his free hand. The shrill whining had begun to grow into an ear-shattering screech. The windows and door began to shake, and eventually shattered in a burst of glass, exploding around Dean and shooting through the air. He yelped, falling to his knees and hid his head under his arms. Glas flew wildly over his head, and the screeching ring grew so intense a warm trickle began to flow down from Dean's ear and across his cheeks. He looked at his hands in horror, finding them sticky with blood and water. His ears stung and rang still, but the screeching began to fade quietly away and eventually stopped all together.

"The hell?" Dean cursed, wiping at his cheek.  He couldn't hear out of his left ear at all, but that was the least of his worries. He needed to find Sam. As Dean got to his feet, his mind whirled sickeningly, and he stumbled, catching himself on the counter. The world around him spun into a blur, and Dean held back the nausea that was building in his chest. Memories from Hell flooded his mind, so intense and powerful that he had to resume his position on the floor. The torture, the endless hours of pain and suffering... The glowing creature... And finally, Dean's transformation.

Oddly, he didn't care that he was a demon now. Actually, the thought brought a slow tingle of pleasure to his stomach, and a strange wash of power ran through his body. A dark, feral smile was building on his lips, and he closed his eyes. Dean let the darkness he had unconciously been holding back flood vicioiusly through his body, and when he reopened his eyes, their bright, vivid green was gone. In their place was a deep, menacing black that consumed Dean, and looked as if it would spill over the rims of his lashes. He let out a slow laugh.

"Watch out Sammy." He murmured. "I'm coming home."  


	3. The Vessel

In a flurry of panicked wings and waving arms, Castiel flew off to find Michael. After watching Dean, Castiel felt sick to his stomach, and as he flew, he had to concentrate on his wingbeats to distract himself from the feeling.

"Michael!" Castiel called breathlessly. Michael turned in his seat at his desk, and gave Castiel a glare. 

"Castiel, I'm busy." He said flatly, turning back. He shuffled some paper, and filed it all away. 

"Michael, this is really important." 

Michael sighed, and slumped down. 

"Alright, what is it? But make it quick, I need to get prepared for Lucifer." 

Castiel gaped his mouth open, but quickly shut it. No way he could tell Michael that Dean was a demon... Michael would be  _furious._  

"I-uhm," He stammered. "I need a vessel." 

This time, Michael turned with a confused expression. He set the papers in his hand down upon the desk, and folded his hands in his lap. 

"A vessel? Why would you need a vessel?" 

"Well... I want to go down to Earth... You know, to keep an eye on Dean while you're preparing." Castiel shrugged and ran a hand nervously along his neck. The other, older Angel shrugged, and stood from his desk. He set his hand on Castiel shoulder and gave a small, weak smile. 

"Would you really do that for me, Castiel?" He asked. Castiel nodded and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. 

"Excellent!" Michael exclaimed. "While you're down there, you might want to talk to them about the Apocalypse." 

"Th-the Apocalypse?" Castiel asked, a slow flicker of fear rising up in him. Michael laughed, and gave Castiel a quick pat before starting his long explanation of how Sam had killed Lilith, jump starting the Apocalypse. The whole time, Castiel just nodded blankly along, falling back into the state he liked to call his "Angel Mode". Whenever Castiel was in Angel Mode, he'd be devoid of emotion, and just follow orders blankly. It was a sort of secret way he could mock the others, and still be seen as innocent little Castiel; regardless of the fact that he intimidated some of the others after he had returned from Hell alone. 

"Alright... Now, to find a vessel..." Michael muttered, rubbing his hand along his jaw in thought. "You know what? Let me cover this. I'll get back to you when I find someone, okay Castiel?" 

Castiel nodded like the good little brother he was. 

"Yes, Brother." 

"Excellent! Now, I have to get back to my preparations. You go- ah, educate yourself on these Winchester boys." 

"Yes, Brother." 

And with that, Castiel flew off. 

~~~~

Dean, feeling renewed, got to his feet. In a plastic bag he shoved a few cool water bottles and a stack of cash from the register. He wasn't really sure who he should call first, Sam or Bobby, but he figured it didn't really matter. They both thought he was dead. He smirked, and walked casually out of the room, and out the the payphone that awaited him in the dusty gravel driveway. The outside air was hot and heavy against his skin, and Dean squirmed slightly. The air smelt like hay and dried grass, exhaust, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Dean was never one for smoking, so he wrinkled his nose uncomfortably and picked up the old payphone.

"To make a call, please insert twenty five cents." The automatic voice hummed through the little speaker. 

"Yeah, yeah. Shut it." Dean muttered as he slipped a coin in, and punched in Bobby's number. The voice popped back through the speakers. 

"Thank you. We're directing your call now." Dean rolled his eyes. 

_Ring._

_Riing._

_Riiing._

"Hello?" The gruff voice of Bobby answered. 

"Bobby." Dean faked a small sob, and smiled victoriously when his voice cracked ever so slightly. Perfect. 

"Who is this?" Bobby sounded upset now, his voice hardening. 

"It's me." Dean replied, putting on the fake I'm-so-upset voice. 

"No, who the hell is this? Don't ever call this number again!" Bobby snapped suddenly into the phone. 

Click. 

Dean sighed, and rested his head against the wall of the booth. He needed somewhere to stay, and Bobby's seemed like the best place to be. But that also meant hiding the New and Improved Dean. He dug another quarter out of his bag, and slipped inside the machine. 

Ring... 

Riing... 

Riiing...

Riiiing... 

"Aw, come on, Sam! Answer your goddamn phone." Dean grumbled, slamming down the reciever. Feeling defeated, and somewhat grumpy, Dean turned and pushed his way out of the phone booth. He looked up, sheilding his face from the sun and took in his surroundings. About three yards away from him sat an old, rusted car. It looked to be at least sixty years old, and Dean rushed toward it hopefully... 

~~~

Slowly, Dean pulled the stolen vehicle up into Bobby's driveway. The slow pitter-patter of the car's engine was soothing, and Dean shut it off with a resigned sigh. He didn't want to be around these  _humans_... They were so... Weak. But then again, if Dean Winchester was raised from the dead, that's exactly where everyone would expect him to go. He couldn't let them know he was a demon; he had to lay low and pretend everything was just peachy. Dean rolled his eyes before stepping out from the car and sauntering up to Bobby's door. 

The old house was so familiar and comforting, that it felt routine for Dean to here. A wave of disgust for himself ran through his body, and he shook off the goddamn warm and fuzzy feelings that were creeping up on him. Dean took a long, steadying breath, then knocked on the door with a few loud taps. He waited for a moment, before he could hear someone shuffling about inside and moving towards the door. Dean suddenly felt nervous, his palms were clammy, and his throat dried despite the fact he had been guzzling water the entire drive here. Clamping down on the feeling, Dean put on an expression of joy and slight confusion. Suddenly, the door swung wide open, and Dean found himself looking down the barrel of Bobby's rifle. 

"Who the hell are you?" He snapped, a furious rage burning both in his voice, and in his eyes. 

"It's me!" Dean cried, pushing aside the rifle and stepping into the relieving coolness of the house. He greeted Bobby with his eyes (that he made sure were his typical green) and gave him a soft smile. 

"I don't know  _how_  it happened, I don't know  _why_  it happened, but I'm alive and I'm here. Bobby, you gotta believe me." Dean pleaded.

"Prove it." Bobby snarled.

Dean bit his lip as he searched around his mind for something to help convince Bobby that it was, in fact, him. 

"I- uh.." He stammered. "I know you became a hunter after your wife died"

Bobby lowered the gun ever so slightly, and gave Dean a hard look and made his stomach flop nervously. He swallowed hard and continued. 

"I know you gave Sam this amulet to give to Dad, but he gave it to me instead." Dean said, holding up the amulet that hung around his neck with a sheepish shrug. Bobby didn't seem satisfied, so Dean continued. 

"Uhm, you taught me how to catch, and uhm..." He hesitated "You're like a father to me?" Dean tried. To his relief, bobby's face softened at the words and he hesitantly lowered the rifle. 

"Dean?" He whispered hoarsly, eyes becoming glassy with tears. His entire face was glowing with a hopeful expression, that reached down into Dean and touched the last, fading human part of him. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. 

"Yeah." His voice cracked, and Dean held back a triumphant smile. Damn, he was a good actor. "It's me..." 

Bobby dropped the rifle completely and took a shaky, deep breath. 

"Come here, boy." He sobbed, walking up to Dean and taking him in his arms. Dean accepted the hug, and buried his head against Bobby's shoulder. Although he would never admit it to himself, Dean had missed Bobby. Demon or not, Bobby was Dean's father. 

Bobby pulled back with a smile, and with a quick flick of his wrist, splashed a vial of holy water up onto Dean's face. Without anytime to shield his face, or dodge the attack, Dean helplessly stumbled back, clutching his face in his hands. It burned and sizzled far fiercer than any burn he had ever gotten. It felt like someone had submerged his skin in acid, then set it on fire. He let out a cry of agony. 

"Agh!" He cried, falling to the floor. "Ugh, Bobby! What the hell!" 

Bobby looked down on him with disgust. 

"I knew it..." He muttered, moving behind Dean, rope in hand.

"Bobby! It's really me!" Dean snapped as the man bound his hands together behind his back. "Just listen to me!" 

He let out a short bark of laughter as he tied Dean up.  

"Shut up, ya' piece of filth." Bobby snarled, dragging Dean to a chair, where Bobby secured him in place. Dean watched the man with a miserable expression, and held back the bursting anger that would building inside of him. Dean knew he was stronger than Bobby now, but still, he couldn't bring himself to attack. 

"Bobby! Really!" Dean pleaded. "I know, I know, this sounds insane." He sighed, slumping his head down. The skin on his cheeks and forehead was stinging slightly, and Dean was sure it had begun to blister.

"I said shut it!" The man called gruffly over his shoulder. Dean turned his head to watch as Bobby made his way across the room and to the phone. He stooped down and picked up the phone and punched in a number. Dean could hear a soft ringing echoe across the room to him as Bobby held the phone up to his ear. 

"Sam." He gasped into the reciever. 

Well, fuck. Now, Dean was going to have to endure endless torture from Bobby and Sam... Two of the best hunters out there. A distant voice on the other line was muttering quietly into the phone, and Bobby flashed Dean a look of disgust before he hissed back a reply. 

"It's Dean..." Bobby said. "He's back." 

~~~~

"His name is Jimmy Novak" Michael said as he popped up in front of Castiel. The Angel had been relaxing in his little paradise when his older brother found him. Castiel looked up in shock from his bed of moss, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was just Michael. He sat up, and folded up his wings on his back before responding.  

"My vessel?" Castiel asked, wringing his hands nervously. 

"Yes." Michael grinned. "I have him all ready for you. Prepped and everything. All you have to do is jump in." 

Castiel fluttered his wings humbly and got to his feet. 

"Thank you, Brother." 

"You're welcome, Castiel. Oh, right, there is just... One little favour I'd like you to do for me." Michael extended his wings in a dominant manner, and grinned down on Castiel. 

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd like you to make sure, no matter what it costs, that you make sure the Winchesters  _do not_  stop the Apocalypse." Michael's grin faded away, leaving him with a hard expression. "You got that?"

"Yes, Brother." 

"Good. Enjoy, Castiel." With that, Michael flew off, leaving Castiel alone in the meadow. With an anxious sigh, Castiel followed his brothers orders, and flew down to claim this Jimmy Novak as his vessel. 

~~

When Castiel had reached Jimmy, he was shocked to see how much they looked a like. Jimmy, of course, was a lot smaller and more human than Castiel. But, their faces and general body shapes were shockingly similar. The thought comforted Castiel, and he closed his eyes before taking the plunge. 

_Here we go_... 

In a long, angular beam of light, Castiel filled Jimmy's body, setting his soul aside and taking control. His entire frame was trembling as he possesed the human, and the feeling of this vessel was like a warm comfortable cocoon. He nestled himself deep inside of the body, and soon, Castiel lost track of where Jimmy ended, and he began. The two fused together into one entity, and when Castiel opened his eyes, he was looking through the world through the gaze of a human. 

The Angel gasped in a shocked breath, and was blown away by the experience. The air in his throat, filling his chest and heaving out again... It was all so foreign. Castiel quivered in wonder, and he lifted his hand, stretching out the muscles, flexing his fingers and marvelling in the movement. He could feel the clothing against the thin membrane of his skin, the wind dancing elegantly through his hair, and the way his skin prickled when the temperature dropped... It was intoxicating. The human body was truly a piece of art. The way Castiel could manuver it so eloquently sent shivers down his spine. In this body, Castiel felt as if he were truly experiencing the world. He stretched his back, and was very pleased to find he still had his wings. He fluttered them in excitement, and gazed around. The human eyes were definitely flawed, seeing as Castiel could only see so detailed and so far, but what he could see was amazing. The colours were so pure. It wasn't like when he looked through the eyes of his true form; they could see far too much. It was sort of overwhelming, and so the eyes of a human were a refreshing change. 

"Thank you, Jimmy" Castiel whispered, stuffing his hands in his pocket. That in itself was an amazing experience, but Castiel couldn't waste anymore time. He had to go find Dean. 


	4. Reunion

The sun was beginning to set by the time Sam arrived. Bobby was sitting in an old chair, a decent distance away from Dean, but still close enough that he could stab a knife in him at a moments notice. It took nearly all of Dean's self control to keep from lunging at him.

"Bobby." Sam gasped, bursting through the door without so much as a knock. The kid looked tired,  Bobby immediately got up, rushed towards Sam and brought him in a tight embrace. The two stood there for a few moments, clinging tightly to each other. Seeing Sam made Dean feel so conflicted. On one hand, his demon self didn't give a rats ass about him, but on the other, Dean could still feel a part of his humanity buried away inside him that still loved him. Dean bit his lip, unable to hide his longing to join them. The way they greeted each other, it was as if Dean wasn't even there, like he still was dead. The thought swooped down on Dean, hitting him hard in the stomach like a punch. He winced. 

"Sam. It's good to see ya, boy." Bobby's gruff voice was muffled by the fabric of Sam's plaid pullover. Sam's eyes were rimmed red, and their hazel depths showed such a deep emotion that Dean felt he had to look away. As the two broke apart, Sam's teary gaze flicked up at caught sight of Dean. He clenched his jaw, and set his shoulders back. His typically warm gaze had hardened to something unrecognizable. It made Dean's stomach contract painfully, and Sam smiled slightly at the look of pain that showed through Dean's blank mask. 

Two could play at that game, motherfucker. 

As Bobby hurried from the room - probably to grab salt or holy water - Dean let a feral grin mark his lips. 

"Hey, Sammy" He greeted his little brother. Jesus, how long had it been since he'd seen the kid? Weeks, months, maybe even years? He was taller than Dean remembered, and his hair hung lower than before. His muscles had shifted from the wiry teenage kind to the strong bulk of manhood. For a moment, Dean felt vaguely jealous. Wasn't he supposed to the big one? The powerful one? Well, Sammy was a delicate little flower when it came to emotions -at least in Dean's mind. He could easily hurt his little feelings.

"Did ya miss me?" Dean winked, and Sam's look of anger and undiluted pain satisfied Dean. The air was heavy around the two men, and Sam swallowed painfully before speaking. 

"I want to talk to Dean." Sam said, lips trembling. His stance was rigid and furious. Dean laughed and let his eyes flick to the floor. He brushed his foot gently across the leg of the chair, and as he brought his gaze back up, he let his eyes shift to black. It felt so much more natural to let his New-and-Improved self shine, and he silently decided this would be a regular practice. Yeah, sure, he could easily pick up girls with a quick smolder of his green eyes, but with these? He could intimidate much easier than before, and it gave him a renewed sense of self worth. Something Dean hadn't had in a long, long time. Maybe not ever. 

"You  _are_  talking to Dean." He smiled. "Just a... Shall we say, New-and-Improved version." Dean flashed his brother a cocky little wink, and let his eyes revert back to green. No use over-using these. Pretty soon they'd get used to them. Sam bit his lip, as if he were holding back a smart ass comment, and hung his head. Smart move; Dean would've ripped him apart. 

"Sam!" Bobby called, returning with a stack of dusty books, a bag of rock salt and a flask. Dean groaned, and hung his head. He had been taking Bobby's torture for hours, and nothing Dean would say could satisfy him. As the older man walked in, Sam turned and smiled weakly. 

"You ready?" Bobby asked, looking Sam over carefully. Dean guessed he was looking for any signs of a breaking point. Like he'd find anything. Sam was as tough as nails when it came to demons. 

"Yeah." Sam took the stack of books from Bobby, and set them on the little table by the door. The final rays of sunlight began to drift down over the horizon, illuminating the house with a final, powerful glow, before they dissapeared into thde grey haze of twilight. Sam flicked on a lamp, and dragged a stool in front of Dean. Bobby leaned back against the wall, watching with careful, angry eyes. 

"I want to talk to my brother." Sam spat. Dean rolled his eyes. 

"I  _am_  your brother." 

_Splat!_

Sam splashed holy water at Dean from the small flask, and Dean yelped. He bowed his head, and desperately tried to shake the liquid off of his skin. 

"How the fuck can you expect me to believe that?!" Sam said in a hurry of words. He was gripping the flask tightly between his fingers to the point where his skin had turned bone white. The kid had serious anger issues, and a part of Dean wanted to laugh and urge his anger on. 

"Wouldn't you think if a demon were possesing my dead body, I'd be a walking pile of... yuck?!" Dean retorted, feigning a look of sadness. "Sammy, you got to believe me." 

The air was quiet and still. The three men sat in its darkness for what felt like an eternity before Bobby broke the silence. 

"Well..." He cleared his throat. "It certainly is a possibility." 

Sam snapped his head around and started at  Bobby with disbelief. His jaw was slack, and his burning eyes were wide. 

"You can't seriously believe this crap!" Sam shouted, getting to his feet. Bobby held up his hands in defense. 

"Sam, boy, calm down. We need to entertain the possibility... I mean, he was down there a long time..." Bobby's voice was soft and soothing. Sam snapped his jaw shut and crossed his arms like a pouting toddler. Dean snorted in amusement. 

~~~~

After hours and hours of interogation, Sam finally gave up with a resigned huff. 

"I just... I don't know what to say." He mumbled, falling down onto the couch with a quiet groan. Bobby had wandered over to his desk, and was shuffling through piles of dusty, old books. Dean rolled his head to the side in exhaustion and twisted his face up into a sarcastic grimace. 

"How about 'oh Dean, we're so happy you're alive!'" Dean spat, closing his eyes and relishing in the few minutes of peace he had. His skin still tingled with the burn of Holy Water. With every movement, it would ache as if he had been exercising his muscles for hours the night before. 

"Bobby." Sam sat up, eyes wide with a sudden idea. 

"Mm?" 

"Is there any way to check if this demon is  _actually_  Dean? Like, a psychic or something?" Sam was watching the older man with wide, hopeful eyes. The poor kid. He really loved Dean, didn't he? Not that Dean didn't already know it, it was just... They never  _really_  showed their affection.

"Hmm.." Bobby chewed his cheek in thought. "I suppose there might be some way. I'll make a few calls." Sam nodded and slunk back down onto the couch. His long, lanky arms were curled in around his torso, and he closed his eyes. Bobby stood up, and made his way into the kitchen, probably to get the phone. Dean let out an audible sigh and bowed his head. 

"Can you guys just untie me?" Dean whined, scuffing his foot against the floor. Sam snorted. 

"Why would we do that?" Sam laughed, rolling onto his side. 

"You think I'd kill you?" The remaining shred of Dean's humanity was actually offended at the thought. Demon or not, Dean would never lay a hand on Sammy. 

"I know you would." 

Anger began to fill up Dean, blurring his mind and taking control over his actions. He had to prove to Sam that he wasn't a mindless fucking freak now. He still had his mind, he could still think. It wasn't like he couldn't rationalize anything anymore. He glared at the books piled up on the table next to Sam, and utilizing a good portion of his strength and a new demonic power, Dean tossed them across the room. They scattered and tumbled across the hardwood, and finally came to a stop against the far wall. The noise echoed around them, and Sam had nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped his head around, facing Dean with wide, scared eyes. 

"Sammy, I could have killed you a long time ago." Dean winked, dragging his tongue across his teeth as he smiled. Well, this was interesting. Dean had forgotten all the nifty things demons could do. He was definitely going to play around for a while.

The younger brother stared, mouth gaping, at the fallen books and swallowed hard. His eyes burned and he turned back to Dean. 

"How'd you do that?" 

Dean shrugged. 

"Beats me. You got to admit, it's pretty cool though." 

Sam clenched his jaw, and gave Dean a hard look before rushing over, and gathering the books. From the kitchen, Bobby called out. 

"I think I've found a solution, Sam." 

~~~~~~~~~

As Castiel came upon the house in which Dean was being held, he toyed nervously with the end of his - Well, Jimmy's - overcoat. Nobody was going to take him seriously if he knocked on the door with a smile. He needed to be dramatic and intimidating, so just strolling inside wasn't going to suffice. He could burst the wall down, and walk inside, but that seemed a tad drastic...

Castiel had always been underestimated and looked down upon in Heaven, even after he made his way through Hell and rescued Dean Winchester  _by himself._   No matter what he did, all his siblings would laugh and pat his head as if he were a child. This was his chance to finally show everyone who he really was. 

With an outstretched hand, Castiel forced the door of the house to swing open violently, smashing off the lock, and bending the hinges. Wood splinters flew across the room with the explosion of sound, and Castiel casually stepped in behind it. The light of the moon filtered in, illuminating his form and casting a long, angular shadow across the hardwood floors. Three, shocked and frightened faces stared at Castiel from the warm light of the house. With a flick of his wrist, the wreckage of the door flew closed, locking with a sound click behind Castiel. The light of the lamps illuminated the room in a warm, campfire like glow. 

The older man stepped back cautiously and slowly, as if he would spook Castiel, and reached for his rifle that was leaning against the far wall. Sam gripped the couch in a tight, terrified grasp, leaning back on it for support. He hardened his gaze, and bit his lip.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice surprisingly strong and even. Castiel turned his eyes on him. 

"I am Castiel." He said slowly, tasting the words as they flowed from his vessels lips.Speaking, Castiel thought, was a very pleasant experience. He liked the thrum of his vocal cords and how they vibrated against his throat.

 At the sound of his voice, Dean's glowing green eyes flicked black, and his jaw fell slack. The soft skin of his cheeks grew to a soft, rosy shade and he struggeled against his restraints. 

"And I need to talk to Dean. Alone." Castiel walked smoothly to Sam, touched his forefinger to the center of his forehead, and watched emotionlessly as the man crumbled to the floor. Dean struggled even harder against the ropes now, and just as Bobby had snuck up behind the Angel, he broke free. Castiel turned, facing the startled old man with a blank face and touched his finger to his forehead. Bobby sagged slowly to the floor and landed with a soft thud. 

"What the hell are you?" Dean demanded, black eyes burning ferociously. He was crouching defensively, hands raised in preparation of a fight. Castiel  quirked his head. Did Dean not remember him? Or could he not recognize him when he was not in his true form. 

"I am an Angel of the Lord." Castiel answered, turning and facing the outraged Demon. His face contorted with confusion and he shook his head. 

"Bullshit." Dean snapped, rubbing the raw, rope-burnt skin of his wrist. It couldn't be very pleasant feeling, Castiel thought. 

"Dean..." Castiel murmured, walking up to the Righteous Man with a confident stride. His hands were still wrapped tightly around the wound, and with gentle hands Castiel pried them apart. Dean's black eyes were wide, staring with curious terror at the Angel. All it took was a gentle carress from Castiel's fingers, and his wound dissapated, leaving him with full, healthy skin. Castiel suppressed a grin of satisfaction, and looked up into the deep, bottomless black of Dean's eyes. 

"This is your problem. You have no faith." 

~~~~

It was the following morning when Sam and Bobby had woken up. Castiel was still in the house, perched peacefully on the couch, with Dean at his side. The Angel smiled peacefully at the disgruntled faces of the two men as he explained everything. 

"Wait, let me get this straight." Sam said in a bitter tone, quirking his lips into a sarcastic smile. " _You're_  the reason Dean's a demon?"

Castiel loosed his tie uncomfortably and nodded his head. 

"I... Yes. Indirectly." He said, refusing to let his blue eyes meet with the furious hazel ones that were bearing down on him. "I'm sorry..." 

The younger Winchester bit his tongue, holding back a rude comment no doubt. He was basically bleeding anger out into the room like a toxic smoke. Behind him, Bobby rested a soothing hand on his shoulder and whispered soft words to the boy. It seemed to do the trick, and Sam settled into a small pout. At Castiel's side, Dean chuckled and rubbed his hands together before sliding them down onto his lap. 

"So, what now?" He asked, eyes flicking to each of the men, and finally, Castiel. Their green depths were so deep, so filled with experience and premature wisdom. They made Castiel feel young, weak, vulnerable. He flicked his own gaze away before Dean would be able to sense his unease. This was ridiculous. 

"There's still the matter of Lucifer." Bobby offered with a shrug. "I assume you of all people would know how to take him down, Castiel." 

At the mention of his name, Castiel snapped his head up and looked around with wide, unsure blue eyes. Thankfully, Sam spoke before he had to. 

"What about The Colt?" Sam asked.

Would it work? The Colt was just a gun. At least, a very, very powerful gun. 

"Would it work against him? I mean, we're talking Lucifer here." Dean said as if he could read Castiel's thoughts. When he talked, every emotion imaginable flickered across his face, as if he his words were having a conversation with his features. Castiel watched Dean anxiously, searching for any sign that he was what he was. The demon's skin was smooth and freckled with a light flush. His eyes were wide and framed with long, dark lashes. He looked so normal, Castiel thought. He lacked the anger and malice that he'd expected to see on the face of a demon. Dean was just to... Human. 

Just like Castiel. 

The old man shrugged, and when he spoke it dragged Castiel out of his wandering thoughts. 

"I think it's the only shot we got." He said in his gruff voice. 

"Yeah, if we had it." Sam huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

"Maybe Angel boy here knows where to find it?" 

All three men turned to Castiel, casting unwanted attention uppon him with expectant looks. For a moment, Castiel was thankful Michael had him research the Winchesters. He was even more thankful they had the prophet Chuck writing those books. He swallowed slowly before speaking in a low monotone voice.

"It is in the hands of the demon Crowley." Castiel said, shifting his eyes around the room, looking anywhere but at Dean. He felt strange when he looked at Dean. 

"Crowley?" 

The angel nodded. 

"Well then." Dean sighed, "How do we find this son of a bitch." 

Castiel turned his gaze on Dean hesitantly, and furrowed his brow. The Righteous Man was looking expectantly and wide-eyed at Castiel. The Angel huffed. 

"You're not going anywhere." Castiel said, looking Dean over. He was a demon, and Crowley was most definitely going to use that against him in some way. It wasn't worth the risk. 

"Why not? I've got all these new demon powers, and you're just going to let me sit here and rot? I don't think so, pal." The Righteous Man was outraged, and it clearly flickered in those captivating green eyes. Castiel was trapped, and he couldn't look away. Green, swirling magnets were pulling Castiel in slowly, and he felt like he would loose himself in their depths if he didn't look away soon. 

"He's right, Dean. I don't want you around any demons." Bobby said, drawing Dean's attention and freeing Castiel from their hypnotizing hold. "They might corrupt you further than you are already." 

"Bobby, come on-" Dean began, but a firm look from Sam made him clamp his lips together. He had a sheepish look on his face as he dropped his gaze to the floor. 

"It's settled then." Bobby said, clapping sam on the back with a playful smack. "Sam and I will go out and find this 'Crowley'." 

"And what about Angel Boy over here?" Dean asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the Angel. Castiel had to lean back against the couch to avoid a jab to the eye from the man's gesture. 

"I'll stay and watch you, Righteous Man." Castiel answered, looking to the others for a sign of their thoughts on this. They both shrugged indifferently, but Dean sputtered at his side. 

"I don't need a babysitter." He whined. 

"But god knows what you'll do Dean." Sam grumbled, gathering his few things. Off the table he snatched small, silver keys. They must be for the Impala, Castiel thought. 

"We'll have our phones, alright, boy?" Bobby said, pulling on a ragged denim jacket off a hook by the door. Sam did the same, and before Dean could answer they had slipped out the door. 

The air fell silent, save for the roar of the Impala's engine starting up and purring it's way down the driveway and out onto the road. Dean wore a mask of displeasure, his jaw tight and eyes hard. They weren't black though, which Castiel took as a good sign. 

"You seem tense, Dean." Castiel observed, eyes wandering over the man at his side. He was slouched over, elbows against his thighs and hands balled between his knees. He ignored Castiel's comment. 

"Dean." Castiel tried again. "Do you not remember me?" 

Immediately, Dean's expression softened, and he turned his head with a reluctant sigh. His light brows were creased in some expression that Castiel did not recognize, but it filled him with a deep sense of unease. No matter how alluringly human Dean looked, Castiel had to remember his true form. 

"I know your voice." Dean said finally, eyes grazing over Castiel inquisitively. They peirced through every inch of Castiel, making him feel small and naked. He shifted uncomfortably. "And your wings." Dean's voice dropped so soft and gentle, it reminded Castiel of a playful breeze. Castiel shivered, and at the mention of his wings, he ruffled them, then laid them flat against his back. Life had become very distracting as of late, and the Angel realized he had forgotten all about them.

"You can see them?" He asked, reaching a hand back to stroke one of his smooth feathers. It slid between his fingers and tickled his skin lightly. Castiel loved the feeling of his wings against this vessel.

"Yeah, I guess it has to do with my weird demon mojo." Dean laughed, momentarily filling the space between the two with his carefree light, and Castiel longed for immediately after the sound faded away.  

 "Maybe." He mumbled, unfurling his wings, stretching them out and nestling them safely back down against him. The light ruffle of feathers and the soft hum of their breathing were the only audible sounds in the room. 

"What do you remember, other than my wings and voice?" Castiel asked after his wings had settled. Dean was watching them with wide, warm eyes. 

"A lot of pain, mostly." He mumbled, and Castiel could see he was holding something back. Might not be best to bother him about it, though. "And you, naturally. I'll always remember you." Dean said, then suddenly brought his hand up to his mouth, as if he were going to be sick or possibly to hold back a flow of words. 

"Dean, why are you covering your mouth?" Castiel asked in his usual, blunt manner. Dean just shook his head and sighed, dropping hand down into his lap where it curled up with the other. His skin was a glowing pale colour against the rough blue of his jeans, and Castiel thought to himself, again, how strangely human Dean was. Just like Castiel.

They sat like that for a long while, basking in the peaceful silence and the comfort of each others company.Suddenly, through the veil of the air the soft voice of Castiel peeped. 

"I'll always remember you too, Dean." He murmured softly. 

 


	5. Burgers

The next few days were a tad awkward to say the least. 

Neither the Angel, nor the demon had any idea when Sam and Bobby would be back, and Dean had deemed it pointless to call them. Castiel wasn't sure why, but he let it slide without comment. 

"I'm going to fix some grub." Dean muttered suddenly. He stood from his spot at the desk in the corner, and walked out into the kitchen. The sounds of dishes clanking and water running echoed through the building and Castiel nestled back against the back of the couch with a sigh. 

"Do Angels eat?" Dean asked, popping his head in the doorway. 

"I can, but it is not neccesary for my survival." Castiel answered.  

"I'll fix you up something then." Dean winked before sliding back into the kitchen where the sweet smells of cooking food were wafting out and swirling around the room. Castiel, unconciously followed the warm stream until he was nearly grinding up against Dean's back. 

"It smells good." He commented, peeking up and around Dean's shoulder. Dean turned, and swatted Castiel away. 

"Sit down, it's not done yet." He scolded, pushing Castiel to the table. The Angel let him, and nestled down into the chair with an expectant look. 

"What are you making?" He asked, twiddling his thumbs anxiously under the table. 

Dean laughed as he cooked. 

"Burgers." Dean said, flipping the meat, and smiling in satisfaction when it landed with a quiet sizzle. 

After a few moments, Dean pulled the patties off of the frying pan, and laid them delicately inbetween some slices of bread. He smiled smugly, and topped them off with some lettuce, tomato and ketchup. 

The moment Dean plopped the steaming plate in front of Castiel, his mouth started to fill with saliva. It looked absolutely delicious, and Castiel sat in shock for a few moments. He swallowed quickly and snatched it up, eating messily. His mouth was coated in grease, but he could care less. This burger was absolutely  _amazing_. 

"These make me very happy." He moaned around the food in his mouth, and he took another enthusiastic bite. Dean grinned proudly from across the table as he watched Castiel eat. 

"I can see that." He laughed, bitting into his own burger. He made a small, satisfied noise in the back of his throat as he swallowed his food and closed his eyes. A strange feeling washed over Castiel at the noise, and he shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure what he was experiencing, but a sudden tightness began to take hold between Castiel's vessels legs, and he scooted around in his seat until he felt comfortable again. From the corner of his eye, Castiel saw vivid green flick up to meet his gaze, and a devilish grin began to spread across Dean's face. His teeth were a shocking white against the pink of his lips, and he drew his tongue out across his mouth, cleaning off the small flecks of bread and ketchup that were there. The tightness grew, and Castiel cleared his throat.

"What's wrong, Angel?" Dean teased, taking an exaggerated bite from his burger, drawing his lips in agonizingly slow and steady. His tongue was irresistably slick, and it glistened with his saliva. He was definitely toying with Castiel. 

"Dean." Castiel sighed, setting his burger down and leaning against the table, desperate to get closer to the demon across from him. A burning desire was eatting away at him, scorching his stomach and working its way down between his thighs. He was beginning to tremble, aching for Dean's touch. 

"Castiel." Dean purred back, all but slamming his burger down upon his plate. A slow creak echoed around the two as Dean slid his chair back and strode over to the Angel.

"Am I distracting you from your meal?" 

Dean's hot breath was trickling down his neck, raising each fine hair. His skin prickled lightly, and he shut his eyes. 

"Yes..." 

"Good" 

In a flash of movement, Dean had Castiel pressed against the wall, trapped between the strong flesh of his arms. Dean let his green eyes wander down Castiel's form. When he brought them back up, their brightness was gone. Castiel stared widely into Dean's darkness, and let out a slow trembling breath. 

"This is strictly forbidden, Dean." He practically moaned. His breath seeped out between them, and when it hit Dean he stiffened, and his eyes gre darker. Castiel wondered absently how he could look so pure, yet so tainted at the sam time. The demon's lips quirked up into a sly smile, and he closed the small space between their lips. 

"Cas, you're such a little virgin." Dean laughed, pressing his hips ever closer to Castiel's. As the fabric of their clothing touched, shocks of electric desire bolted through his skin and Castiel lowered his gaze. In a swift, graceful movement, the angel twirled Dean around, grasping his wrists in one hand and slamming them against the wall behind them. Now, the demon was pinned against the wall and Castiel could clearly see the lust in him. It was practically radiating out of him in waves of heat. The demon squirmed under Castiel's grasp, clearly trying to regain his dominance.

"Stay still, boy." Castiel snapped as he drew his great wings out. Their shape casted an alluring, dark shadow on the wall, framing Dean's shaking form. The Demon's eyes widened into deep, pulsing oceans of darkness. The sight of them set fire to Castiel's stomach, feeding the burn of his ever growing need. In slow, careful movements, Castiel bent in, twisting his face down and under Dean's, stopping at the perfect angle before they opened widely and took in the plump, pink flesh of his mouth. The demon beneath him crumbled at the touch, and gladly opened his mouth up, shaping his lips against the harsh, determined force of Castiel. The slick, wet feeling of Dean's saliva coated his mouth and tongue, replacing the burgers grease. A low thrum of a moan echoed between them, and Castiel was unsure of who it came from. He ignored it, though, and slid his free hand up to perch tightly on Dean's hips. His fingers bore down on the soft flesh under his hands before snaking their way up under Dean's shirt. The man let out a long groan from the back of his mouth, urging Castiel on. He let his fingers tease the delicate flesh until they came upon the soft, prickling bud of Dean's nipple. A dark, tempting thought drfited through his mind, and without thinking his fingers formed themselves around it, pinching and pulling at it. Then, he slid his hands back down, grazing Dean's skin as they went before resting back on his hip. The desperate, shaky noises that Dean was whimpering made Castiel's obvious erection even more painful. 

"Cas!" Dean cried into his mouth before pushing away and cursing under his breath. Castiel's was breathing hard, and he barely managed a  soft "what" between gasps. 

"Shit..." Dean grumbled, wriggling his hands free from Castiels firm hold. His wrists were slightly raw and bruised, and Castiel clenched his hand in displeasure. He didn't like the thought of hurting Dean. The very sight of his minor wounds sent displeasure coursing through his veins. 

The demon lifted the fabric of his cotton shirt, revealing a bright red scorch mark of a handprint upon the skin of Dean's hip. It bubbled and blistered around the edges, and Dean gingerly touched a finger to it. Immediately, he gasped and pulled his hand away, looking up at Cas with narrow green eyes.

"Cas-" 

Castiel quickly shut him up with a hard press of his lips, and just as he was beginning to loose himself against Dean, the sudden sound of the kitchen door had the couple springing apart. 

Sam stood stiffly and awkwardly in the doorway. His skin was blooming bright crimson and he dropped the duffel bag that was in his arms. His posture screamed uncomfortable at Castiel, and he resisted the urge to erase his memory. He decided against it, seeing as Dean would hate the idea of Castiel playing with his brother's mind.

The three stared blankly at eachother for what felt like eternity, before Dean rubbed a hand along his hip and broke the silence. 

"I-uh...." He stammered, looking to the blank-faced Castiel who stood at his side. The Angel bit his lip and turned to Sam. 

"You're interupting." He said innocently, staring at Sam completely devoid of any emotion. The younger brother, on the other hand, fumed with unease and let out an awkard laugh before muttering 

"I can see that." Quickly, he turned on his heels and slid right back out the door. Dean hissed a small 'fuck' under his breath, and stormed out after the other Winchester, leaving Castiel standing alone in the kitchen. 

 

"What are you getting yourself into, Castiel." He grumbled as he resumed his seat at the table, and finished both his, and Dean's discarded burgers. They tasted heavenly, Castiel thought, and for a moment, he forgot about the world and lost himself in the glory of this food. 

 


	6. The Girl

"Sam! Godammit, Sammy! Listen to me!" Dean shrieked, storming out of the house and down into the seemingly endless yard of old cars. The gravel beneath his feet was being tossed up into clouds of dust as he ran.  Sam hesitated, and finally he stopped and turned back to Dean.

"If you wanted to be alone, you could have told me."  He said in a hard, quiet voice.

Sam's jaw was clenched tightly, and he was watching Dean with gaurded hazel eyes. They lacked his typical warmth, which set unease spiking through Dean's veins. 

"Sammy, I just got back from hell.  Why would I want to be alone?" Dean said, dodging narrowly around the question. He wasn't going to talk about this weird thing with Castiel. It was... So unlike Dean. And frankly, it weirded the shit out of him. It had to have come with his dumb demonic powers. Anything else was out of the question. 

"Dean, dont pretend I didn't see you back there. What I don't get is... Castiel? This angel we met, what, a few  _days_  ago? Man, we don't even know if he's actually an Angel. For all we know he could be another demon that's trying to mess with your head!" Sam huffed. His eyes dropped their harsh gaurds and crumbled into a frantic, angry mess. "I just don't want him taking you away from me." 

Those last words struck Dean deeply, hitting and arising his last shred of humanity for a fleeting moment before the darkness inside him boiled over in a sudden anger. Dean shook his head, dropping his eyes and sighed. He needed to keep Sam on his side. Sam was one of the most dangerous hunters in the world, and on top of that, he still probably had his weird demon mojo. And no doubt if it came to it, he would use it on Dean. He was going to need to convince him that Dean was still a good little soilder.

"Sam.... Don't ever think that." He said, adding just a touch of sadness and hurt to his tone. "There is nothing I'd ever choose over you, you know that. There's nothing between me and him, okay Sam? Nothing." 

The man across from his nodded and ran a hand through his long hair. 

"I know, Dean. I just wonder about you. I keep forgetting what you've become..." 

"Sam-"

"No, it's okay. I better get back to Bobby anyway. He just wanted me to check that you hadn't killed anyone... I-I'll see you 'round"

With that, Sam turned and headed off towards the sound of a roaring engine. His form slipped away through the clouds of dust, and finally once he was out of Dean's sight, the demon headed back towards the house where Castiel waited. Suddenly, all thoughts of Sam were erased from Deans mind as the angel flooded his thoughts. 

There was just something about him, Dean thought, that was so alluring. So intimidating and exhilirating. Dean had never once before considered the thought of being with a guy. Hell, if he were in a normal circumstance he would have immediately laughed off his feelings, or ignored them all together. He'd pass them off as curiousity. He wasn't quite sure, but he knew what this Castiel did to him was something beyond all that. Maybe it was the fact that he saved Dean's ass from Hell... The thought of Castiel's bright, white form rentered his mind, filling it with his glowing strength, his goodness, his compassion and the overpowering emotions that he so obviously carried with him, although they were masked with his vessel. 

"Dean?" a grave, raspy voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Dean blinked. He was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking blankly out into space. Before him stood Castiel, pink lips glistening with the grease of their burgers, and his eyes widened into a curious, lustful gaze. Dean cleared his throat. 

"Hey, Cas." He winked, recovering his cocky outershell as he stepped inside, closing the back door behind him. 

"How is your brother? I hope I did not offend him in any way." Castiel said, walking towards Dean. The demon shook his head. 

"Nah, Sam's fine. Don't worry." He smiled, and took the angel into his arms. 

"Good." Castiel murmured against Dean, and he closed his eyes softly in a flutter of lashes. For a moment, Dean could feel the burning of his true form against his tainted smoke of a soul, and it sickened him. No way should something so absolutely pure and... Clean, be touching Dean. He almost threw Castiel off of him, if it weren't for the desire that the touch of his body sent through him. 

~~~~~ 

When Dean hugged him, it was an unexpected touch that had Castiel resisting the urge to break away. But the deep emotions that showed through Deans arrogant mask had peirced Castiel in such a way that he allowed the touch -  even melted into it. Dean needed comforting, whether he was willing to admit it to himself or not, and at the moment, it seemed as if Castiel were the only one capable of giving it to him. His family had practically abandoned him, seeing as he was a demon. Not that Castiel blamed them, but still. 

So he hugged Dean.

It was nice, surprisingly, and warm. Much warmer than the kiss they had shared, and more intimate in a way. Typically Castiel would have thought a kiss to be far more intense than a hug, but this was something different. They weren't just satisfying their lusts; Castiel was actually  _comforting_  Dean. That came as a strange thought, but Castiel didn't mind, really. 

Too soon and the hug was over. Dean pulled back and gave him another wink before sauntering over to the couch where he flopped down, flicking the TV on, and setlled down. Castiel could see he wasn't going to move, so he joined Dean on the couch and got as comfortable as he could manage. 

~~~ 

It didn't take long for the colours of the TV screen to blur together and the words to sink out of Dean's mind. That familiar, uncomfortable itch had begun to attack his legs, signalling that Dean needed to get out - to get some fresh air. It was the same feeling he got when he had just fought with Sam, and needed to cool his head. Before he realized what was happening, Dean was on his feet, jacket on, and standing at the door. 

"Where are you going?" Castiel asked from the couch. The guy was so quiet, Dean had almost forgotten about him. 

"Out. I need to stretch my legs." Dean threw over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Don't wait up." 

 "Dean-" Castiel called, but was cut off as Dean closed the door behind him. He barely even looked back as he began walking briskly down the sidewalk. He needed a drink and maybe a few girls to clear up this fucking mess his head had become. He was not gay. Hell no. The thought just didn't settle right with him... So, off he went in search of some reminder of who he once was. 

It didn't take long for Dean to stumble across a quiet, little pub. A bright, flashing neon sign hung above the doors. 

_The Winkin' Owl_

Dean shrugged. He didn't see anywhere else to go in the area, so he headed in, chin up, shoulders back. The doors glided open revealing a warm, friendly atmosphere inside. People crowded each little table that dotted the pub and a low hum of talk buzzed around the room. The air inside was warmer too, which was a welcome relief from the crisp September air. Dean approached the bar with his usual cocky smile and slide into the nearest chair. 

"What can I get for you?" A tall, dark haired woman popped in out of nowhere, smiling down at Dean. He smirked and ran his tongue slowly across his teeth, making the girl's eyes widen. Satisfied, Dean answered. 

"Just a beer, thanks."

The girl nodded, and pulled a tall brown bottle from under the counter, and slid it across the counter to Dean. 

"Thanks." He grabbed the bottle, and took a long swig of it. 

"So, what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" The girl asked from across the counter as she wiped down a few glasses. Her elbows were placed in a not so subtle postion that perked up her breasts so that they almost jumped out of her black tank top. Dean chuckled and set his beer down. 

"Need some new material there, I see." Dean laughed at the over-used pick up line and set his elbows on the counter, leaning in closer to her. Her cheeks flushed and she ran a hand back across her cheek, pushing a strand of dark hair back into place. "I just needed some time to myself, you know?" He continued. 

"Ah, I see." She nodded, and set down the empty glass in her hand. "If you want to talk about it..." 

"I- It's complicated." He hesitated, and shifted around in his seat. "Why don't we talk somewhere more private? What time do you get off?" 

"I can go now." She smiled, putting away the glass and rag, and pulling a small black purse from somewhere under the counter. 

"I'm Kathy." She said finally as she stepped out from behind the bar. Her clothes fit snugly against her smooth skin, and her hair hung impossibly low, just down past her hips. Dean smirked and curled his arm in around her waist. The couple strolled out of the bar in a quiet manner, and made their way down the street. She looked absolutely amazing in the moonlight, Dean thought. The way the light hit her skin and hair... He couldn't suppress the grin that was marking his lips.

"I'm Dean." He winked. "So, you got an apartment or something?" 

A devilish grin spread across her red lips, and just as they entered a dark, desolate alleyway, her bright blue eyes shifted to a deep black.

"Something like that." 

~~~

 

Immediately after Dean had left, Castiel knew something was wrong. He should have never let Dean out of his sight, but he just forgot what Dean really was. Dean seemed much too normal and human. He was everything a Demon wasn't. Regardless, Dean couldn't be up to any good out there. Even when he was human, he wasn't exactly the kind of person who stayed out of trouble. It was as if danger followed him wherever he went. It didn't take Castiel all too long to come to the decision that he needed to find Dean and bring him back.

And so, Castiel flew off leaving the house empty and dark filled only with the quiet hum of the TV. 

The streets past the junkyard were dark and empty, save for the occasional puddle of gasoline or flickering light of a streetlamp. It was eerie, and made Castiel feel vaguely off. Like something awful was about to happen. 

Just as Castiel was about to give up his search, and head back to Bobby's, the sound of a silky voice broke the air. 

"Dean.... Look at you." It purred from a dark, empty alley. Castiel immediately headed straight towards it. He landed softly behind the curve of the nearest building, just out of sight of Dean and the woman that was accompanying him. 

"Shove it, bitch." Dean snarled back. The woman had him by the throat up against the wall of the alley way, like she was about to attack him. She reeked of demon blood, and just darkness in general. Castiel resisted the urge to cover his nose, and listened in closer.

"I don't want to hurt you, but you're starting to piss me off." 

She laughed and drew a finger slowly across Dean's face, and stopped at his lips. Below her hand, Dean grimaced, and tried to pull back without much success. 

"I got my orders, Dean. It's nothing personal..."  She stepped back suddenly in a whirl of dark hair and pale skin, and lifted her hand up as if to strike Dean.

_Bad idea_.... Castiel thought. Immediately, Dean's eyes flicked black and with a shout of anger, he threw her back against the wall with a surprising force. Her body landed with a hard slam, and she slumped down onto the pavement. A dark, red stream began to trickle from her mouth, matching the deep colour of her lips perfectly. She stumbled to her feet, and dusted herself off. 

"Ouch, Dean." She smiled. "You're more powerful than I thought." 

Across from her, Dean just laughed and raised his hands. 

"Come and get it, you fucking slut." He taunted, waggling his eyebrows in a cocky manner. She bit her lip, and finally lunged towards him. Behind her back, the woman reached into her pocket, and pulled out a long, dangerous knife that Castiel immediately recognized as the one Ruby had given the Winchester's. He couldn't watch this anymore. With a long, powerful stride, Castiel stepped out from the shadows and threw the woman back and away from his Righteous Man. 

"The hell?" Dean said, stepping back in surprise. It didn't take long for him to catch sight of Castiel's glowing, furious form. He headed straight for the woman with an outstretched palm. She layed weakly against the ashpalt, shaking her head and whimpering. 

"No, no, please, no." She cried, and Castiel mercilessly placed a  hand against her forehead. In a sudden, bright flash of light, she was dead.

The knife fell from her hand and clattered against the hard ground, and soon after her body slumped down. The air was quiet and heavy, and the only noise to be heard was Dean's frantic breathing. Finally, Castiel turned back to him, and frowned. 

"She was a demon." Castiel said with the slightest bit of anger seeping through his words. Dean flinched, and picked up the knife. 

"Yeah... I noticed." He toyed with the knife in his hands, looking down on the body with a slight expression of disgust. 

"How did she get the knife, Dean?"  

"Had it in my jacket. She must have snatched it when we walked out of the bar..." he shrugged, and stuffed it back in his coat. "How'd you know where to find me?" 

Castiel ignored the question, and gave Dean a hard, dissapointed look. The demon sighed in exasperation, and began to rub his forehead absently. 

"Why'd you kill her?"

"She was going to kill you, Dean." 

"I got that." He snapped. "But why? I'm a demon. You should want me dead... For fucks sake, all of Heaven should want me dead." 

"Heaven doesnt know about you. Yet." Castiel murmured, dropping the emotionless angel act, and bowed his head. He was ashamed of his actions, and with good reason. He was disobeying his orders for a demon. That was pretty much worse than what Lucifer had done. 

"They don't know?!" Dean asked, eyes wide and confused. They were their typical green though, which Castiel was thankful for.

"No." He sighed. 

"How?" 

"I... I didn't tell them." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I didn't want to loose you, Dean." 

Dean popped his mouth open as if to speak, but no words came out. All was silent, and Dean dropped his eyes as well, staring blankly down at the body before them. The sounds of cars and a low hum of talk began to buzz in the distance, and Castiel finally broke the silence. 

"I will fix this, Righteous Man. I promise." 

Without another word, Castiel flew off, leaving Dean alone and confused in the dark of the alley. 

 


	7. Orders

Castiel didn't look back as he took off, leaving Dean standing alone in the alley way. No doubt, after that girl's attack, Dean would head back to Bobby's where he could lay low, for which Castiel was grateful. Although, he wasn't quite sure where  _he_  should go. He wouldn't do any good back at Bobby's, and frankly Castiel was a bit afraid that he would loose control of himself. Dean Winchester did  _things_  to him. 

It didn't take long for the angel to decide that he should probably report back to Michael, seeing as his older brother was probably starting to get suspicious. Did he already know about Dean? Was he watching Castiel right now? Worried thoughts spun sickeningly around Castiel's head. It was too late for him to chicken out. Michael was fierce, and Castiel definitely did not want to upset him further. So, It was with a troubled mind that Castiel made him way back to Heaven. 

~~~

When that godamn Angel disappeared, Dean nearly lost it. 

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'LL FIX IT?!" He screamed at the sky, green eyes searching his surroundings frantically.

"CASTIEL?!" 

The echoes of his shouts were tossed about the alleyway, bouncing back to Dean in small waves of his own voice. Once they cleared, the air was silent. It weighed heavily down on Dean, and he struggled to calm his anger and confusion. He hated the way that angel talked to him, he hated all the way every fucking thing that looked at him, looked at him with disgust. He hated who he had become, and even more than that, he hated who he had the potiental to be. Everything Dean had prided himself on had just been ripped out of his hands. No longer was he the hero, The hunter, the great Dean Winchester. Now, all he was was another supernatural freak. Another monster to gank. Dean dropped to his knees beside the girl's body and his his face in his hands. He couldn't even save this poor girl, which further proved his point. At this moment, Dean felt absolutely, horribly alone. All his arrogance had vanished, leaving him as the broken shell of a man he really was. 

In a sudden fit of anger and desperation, Dean slammed his head down against the concrete. He didn't deserve to be healthy. He didn't deserve to be okay. Dean needed to be hurt, and if no one else was going to do it, then he would do it himself. It wasn't until blood began to pool in his eyes that Dean realized he was still bashing his head against the street. His head was swimming, beaten beyond pain. He slid his jacket sleeve up, covering his palm, and pressed it against his forehead to stop the flow of blood. The edges of his vision grew hazy, and the last thing Dean remembered before the world slipped away was the sound of Castiels voice. 

_I will fix this, Righteous Man. I promise._

_~~~_

When Castiel arrived in Heaven, he wasn't surprised to see Michael awaiting him. 

"Castiel. I knew you'd come back." He smiled, hands wrapped tightly around one another behind his back. He looked down on Castiel with disdain, and his wings were outstretched behind him. Castiel dropped his gaze, and let his own wings fold themselves away onto his back. 

"Michael." He nodded, blue eyes pinned upon his feet. He couldn't meet his brothers eyes, not after all he had done. 

"So, how is Dean Winchester?" Michael asked. "I hope he hasn't gotten himself in any trouble." 

His gaze hardened on Castiel, and finally, something inside the younger angel snapped. He flicked his eyes up and set his shoulders back. Behind him, his wings unfurled themselves and fluttered up, mimicking the position Michael set his own in. 

"He's fine." Castiel clipped the words off, glaring heatedly up at his brother. He had enough with this attitude all the other angels seemed to carry with them, and he wasn't up for taking any more of it. So, his siblings said he had too much heart? Well, they were damn right he did. 

Suddenly, Michael stepped closer to Castiel, his face unmoving and his expression unwavering. He was keeping his cool well, Castiel thought, but he could see the fury burning away in his eyes. 

"All right then, Castiel..." He began, eyes wandering over his wings. "But, if something  _did_  happen to my vessel, you know what you would have to do. "

"Kill him?" Castiel stammered, eyes widening as a slow fear began to creep into his veins. 

"Yes." Michael said, spinning around back to his desk.

"What if I were to fail this task?" Castiel asked softly, the thought of harming Dean bringing a deep, sickening feeling rising up in his stomach. 

Michael suddenly whipped around, and with a knowing smile he set a hand on Castiel's shoulder. 

"We'd have to kill you, too." Michael's features contorted from feral anger, to a sudden emotionless mask that had Castiel fluttering his wings submissively. 

"Understand, Castiel?" 

He nodded. 

"Yes, Brother." 

~~~

It was the following afternoon when Dean woke up. His face was caked in a sticky, half dried layer of his own blood, which was beginning to flake and peel around the edges. He groaned, and lifted himself off the hard, cold pavement. The girl's body was still laying there, and her skin was beginning to take on soft green undertones. There was no doubt she'd start smelling soon, so Dean had porbably get out of there before someone found them.

Dean gripped his aching head in his hands, and began to wander his way back to Bobby's. it couldn't be more than an hour long walk, but it felt like days. He would stumble occasionally, and his vision was vaguely blurry. 

~

The sight of Bobby's was never more comforting, yet unwelcoming as it was when Dean stumbled back up to it. The junkyard felt homey, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that he was unwelcome; that he was a freak that no one wanted there. It was an awful feeling, that kept nagging at the back of his mind. It felt like a bug bite that was barely out of his reach. Dean desperately tried to shake it off without much luck. 

The creaking noise of the opening door was excruciating to Dean, as his head was pounding with a vicious headache. At least the inside was cool, dark, and empty. He was a bit surprised to see Castiel was gone, but he understood it. Why would he want to be here? Heaven couldnt want him, so he didnt need to be here anymore. It was simple. 

After popping a few pills, and a couple beers Dean felt better. The pounding pain was numbed, and his troubling thoughts weren't as prominate as before. The alchohol didn't affect him like it did before - it took a lot more of a lot stronger stuff to reach just a little buzz. He wasn't too pleased about that, but shrugged it off. He couldn't do much about it. He was a filthy demon now, and there was no changing that. 

With a sigh Dean resumed his place on the couch, beer in one hand, and the tv remote in the other. The light of the TV was blinding at first, but eventually Dean's eyes adjusted and he settled in for a marathon of  _Dr. Sexy M.D_  that was playing. It didn't take long for Dean to loose himself in the drama that was playing across the TV screen, and for a while, he forgot the world had a quiet little moment of peace. 

~~~

Castiel knew Bobby and Sam had to heading back soon, so he hurried along, determined to reach Dean before they returned. He needed to speak with Dean, and it would be so much easier without Sam or Bobby interupting to ask questions, or to add their own input. It wasn't that Castiel didn't like them, or didn't like their presence; he just didn't really care too much about them. Yet. 

~

When he came upon the house, Castiel hesitated. Disobeying was practically the worst thing you could do as an Angel... Was Dean worth the risk? 

_Yes_.... The little voice in his mind immediately whispered to him.  He ignored it, and began to walk towards the door of the little building. The flickering light of the television was flashing through the windows, indicating that Dean had in fact returned. A slow smile spread across Castiel's face at the thought of being with Dean again. 

Castiel still wasn't sure what it was about Dean that just appealed to him so much. Why did he care about him? He had every reason not to. He was a demon, and Castiel was and angel. The two just didn't mix. 

_He's not like the others_... His mind whispered again, and Castiel shook off the words, as well as the smile. This was ridiculous. As Castiel entered the house, he put on a mask of emotionless detachment. 

"Cas?" Dean said, turning around as the angel appeared silently behind him. The mans words were slightly slurred, and the air reeked of alchohol. Castiel wrinkled his nose as he noticed the large swelling bruises that adorned Dean's face. They reminded him of ink spills on paper, the colour bleeding out in a fascinating way. Dark, ruddy blood was caked along his cheek, and spilled down onto his jawline. It was beginning to flake, and it looked horribly painful. 

"Dean..." Castiel frowned worriedly, and with a soft touch of his hand, Dean's wounds mended themselved until nothing was left but his familiar smooth skin.  "What happened?" 

 "I..." Dean began, sliding a hand up to touch the skin where his wounds were. His hand was shaking slightly, and Castiel fought the impulse to grab it. "I got mad." 

"At me?" He asked, eyeing Dean's fingers curiously and they ran across his forehead. 

"No, god no, Cas. I was mad at myself." 

Castiel quirked his head, furrowing his brow in confusion. Why would Dean be mad at himself? He had done nothing wrong - yet. This situation had been out of his control. Almost without thought, Castiel walked in front of Dean, and sat himself down on the floor at the demons feet. 

"Why would you be mad at yourself Dean?" He asked softly. The floor beneath Castiel was hard and cold, but he didn't mind. At this angle, he could get a clear shot of Dean's face. A clear view of the redness that was beginning to tint the edges of Dean's eyes, and the way his throat got caught when he attempted to speak. 

"This wasn't your fault." Castiel continued, blue eyes wide and caring. Castiel could see the effect they had on Dean, and the demon before him drooped his head. His hands were gripping the cushions beneath him in a death grip, his knuckles turning a pale white. A slow tension began to build between the two, and the angel closed his eyes with a said sigh. 

"For what it's worth..." He began, and Dean lifted his head. "I would do anything to not have had this happen to you." 

A soft hand placed itself under Castiel's chin, raising his gaze to meet Dean's glowing green eyes. His lips were parted in a small, sad smile and he lowered his face down so he could press his forhead against the angels. 

"Thanks, Cas." He murmured, cupping the angels cheek with his left hand. 

The two sat like that for hours, until eventually, the sun began to sink down beyond the horizon, shooting its last rays of light up and over the land with an orange glow. 

~~

Sam and Bobby rolled slowly up to the junkyard in the impala, and a heavy sense of dread hung over them. 

"Bobby..." Sam said, looking out the window. The old cars passed by in a lazy roll, and eventually the Impala came to a stop. 

"I know, Sam. It's hard." Bobby said in a reassuring tone. "But that _is_  Dean in there. We just gotta face him." 

Sam huffed, and rested his head against the window of the car. He didn't want to have to see Dean like that again. He didn't want to think about what he had become, or hell, what he was going to become. Those disgusting black eyes were all Sam could think about, and he just felt hopeless. he wanted his big brother back. 

"Come on, boy." Bobby said as he stepped out from the car. The door slammed behind him, and he bent down to peek in the window. "Listen. There's something still good about Dean. I can feel it. So snap out of it, and get yourself together Sam." 

The older man took off towards the house in a slow saunter, leaving Sam alone in the car. He huffed, and pushed his way out the door and followed Bobby inside, wishing with everything inside him that he didnt have to do this. 


	8. Wasting Time

"Relax." Bobby said, placing a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. He considered shrugging it off, but thought better of it, and instead settled for a small nod. It was Dean in there, and so far he hadn't tried anything. Maybe Bobby was right... Maybe there really was a part of him that was still pure...

~~~

When the roaring sound of the Impala sounded outside, Castiel and Dean sprung apart from their embrace. Dean's cheeks were an obvious red, and Castiel silently wondered why. Why was this so embarrassing?

"Relax" Castiel heard a familliar voice outside say, and soon after, Bobby and Sam pushed in through the door. They look tired, having been on the road for quite some time. Sam was looking around cautiously, and Castiel could see he was hovering close to Bobby. He obviously didn't trust Castiel yet.

"Sam, Bobby." Castiel greeted, nodding towards the two. He couldn't help but feel the slightest bit offended when they ignored him, and went about their business. The room was echoeing with the soft thuds of their bags hitting the floor, and the sound of their shoes being kicked off and forgotten by the door.

"Did you get it?" Dean asked, eyes wide and inquisitive. He was watching the other two with a slight tinge of hurt mingled with anticipation. His skin was practically glowing where Castiel had healed him. No one answered him for a few moments, as Sam and Bobby were unpacking their things, but finally, once they had settled in Sam drew the colt from his coat, and slapped it down on top of the TV. 

"Took longer than we hoped, but yeah, we got it." Sam said as he turned and seated himself beside Dean on the couch. Both he and Bobby were eyeing Castiel and Dean with curiousity, but neither of them said anything about the position in which Castiel was sitting, and Dean was obviously grateful for it. Castiel silently got to his feet and stepped away, giving the brothers some space. The tension in the room was ever growing around them, and Castiel swore he could almost see it. Bobby cleared his throat. 

"Well, Dean, it's good to see you, but I think we better hit the hay. Sam and I have had a long drive." Bobby gave Sam a look, and sauntered off towards his room. Dean dropped his gaze to his feet and slapped a hand against Sam's back. 

"Alrighty. Night, Sammy" He said as the younger Winchester bid his farewells, and headed to the guest room. It wasn't until they heard the door close with a soft click that Dean quickly got to his feet and snatched the gun up off of the tv. Castiel frowned and approached Dean. 

"Dean, leave the gun for Sam. You don't need it right now." He said with a knowing look. Castiel couldn't imagine what was going through Dean's head, but he knew it had to be nasty. The demon's eyes were practically dripping with self-loathing. 

"Cas, you don't get it." Dean mumbled, toying with the gun in his hands. 

"Dean?" 

The red around Dean's eyes darkened and Dean's throat caught with the tears that were threatening to spill out over the rims of his eyes. His voice was croaky when he tried to speak again. 

"They think I'm a monster, Cas. T-they look at me like I'm going to set off at any second..." 

"Don't-" 

Dean cut Cas off, mid-sentence, having fought the tears away. The creaks in his voice were completely gone when he spoke again, almost like they were never there in the first place. Castiel could see that Dean hated when he cried. 

"But the worst part is... I think they're right." He said, eyes dropping from Castiel to the floor. "I can feel it inside me, Cas. Whatever humanity I have left is slipping away, and I'm scared." 

Dean stopped and sighed, setting the gun back down hesitantly. The look that was plastered on his face completely broke Castiel's heart, and he wished with nearly everything in him that he could wipe it away. He just wanted to wash the hurt, the anger, the disgust and pain from him. It hurt Castiel so much, seeing Dean in pain, and he couldn't imagine following his brothers orders at all. 

But then again, Castiel would be putting Dean out of his misery... 

_No. Stop it, Castiel_.  _You're not thinking straight._  He thought to himself.

"What are you staring at?" Dean finally asked, and Castiel blinked. Was he staring at Dean the whole time? He must have. A slow, burning blush marked his cheeks and he immediately flicked his gaze to the floor.

"You." He answered honestly, and instantly regretted it. Dean would probably feel uncomfortable. 

To Castiel's surprise, Dean just laughed and wound an arm around the angel's waist, pulling him into a tight hug. 

"I'm flattered." He breathed against Castiel's neck, and the brush of air raised each fine hair along his skin. He shivered, and leaned into Dean's chest. "I bet you want to do more than look, don't you?" 

_Yes, oh god, yes_.... Castiel thought, and he didn't realize he had been mumbling until Dean laughed lowly in his ear. 

"I'm all yours..." He sighed again, and drew his tongue down across his neck in warm, wet little trails. The angel snapped his eyes close, and held back a dark moan that was threatening to break free in the back of his throat. He knew this was horribly wrong, but oh did it ever feel right. It felt so hot and good being cradled by Dean this way, having Dean's mouth wandering over Castiel's overly sensitive skin, having his hands roam his body... Castiel finally broke, and turned, meeting Dean's overly hungry lips with his own. As they touched, it felt like pure white heat sparked through Castiel's veins, and his body trembled slightly.

"Maybe we should go out to the Impala..." Dean murmured against Castiel's lips. He must have had a quizzical look on his face, because Dean chuckled and explained; "We don't want to wake the others up." 

Oh, that made sense. 

So, with a very, very excited Dean on his tail, Castiel stumbled out the door, closing it nearly silently behind Dean. They just barely made it into the impala when Dean had all but tore Castiel's overcoat off, discarding it on the dashboard of the car. They were sprawled out on the backseat, Castiel hovering over Dean, admiring every inch of his smooth skin and practically worshipping his body with his mouth. Dean's hands were working at getting the rest Castiel's clothing off, and both men were breathing hard against one another. The first gentle rays of moonlight started to flitter into the car, and Castiel pulled away from Dean to push off his dress pants. As he did so, he couldn't help but think how overwhelmingly amazing Dean looked. His lips were ever so slightly swollen, his eyes blown wide with lust, and his amazing skin... Castiel was rendered breathless. 

"What?" Dean asked, his voice husky. He was starting to unbutton his shirt, and at the sight of his bare chest, Castiel stooped down and pressed his lips against him in a sweet, small kiss. 

"You look absolutely hypnotizing...." Castiel sighed, and he pulled his lips away, just barely far enough that he could speak clearly. Dean's cheeks flushed. 

"Shut up, Cas." He grumbled as he slid out of his jeans, and intertwined his legs with Castiel's. The touch of his skin was intoxicating and Castiel found he couldn't answer. He needed Dean so badly, he needed to hear Dean cry out his name, to make Dean forget everything and live only in this very moment. Impatiently, Dean hitched his pelvis up to collid with Castiel's, and he threw his head back, his breath coming in small little pants. 

"Please..." He all but cried out, gripping Castiel's shoulders tightly. He was definitely going to have some bruises.

"Beg." Castiel purred, leaning down to nestle his face in the crook of Dean's neck. He smelled so sweet, like a lazy summer afternoon... It made Castiel's head spin. Slowly, Castiel drew his hand down across Dean's torso until his fingers had found the waistband of his boxers where they twisted into the fabric. 

"Beg." He repeated into Dean's ear, his hands stilled upon his body. 

"Castiel, please." He whimpered. "Please. I need you." 

The angel smirked and kissed Dean's neck gently. 

"As you wish." He murmured, and finally pulled Dean's boxers off of him in one swooping movement. They fell to the floor of the car, already forgotten as Castiel rested his hands along Dean's thighs in a tight, teasing grip. Dean was trembling beneath him, and Castiel finally slid a hand up to grip Dean's erection in a gentle hold. The sounds coming from the demon below him made Castiel's stomach flop in the strangest way, and instantly he craved more. Hand slick with precome, Castiel rubbed Dean with slow pumps, drawing various incoherent mumbles and moans from his mouth. His hands were pressing down on Castiel's bare shoulders, to the point where the skin around his hand was turning bone white. His lips were parted and Castiel grinned as he resumed his place against Dean's mouth, catching each noise with his mouth. 

"Cas... Cas..." Dean chanted, and Castiel had never really known how sweet his voice sounded until Dean had sighed it into his mouth. 

~~~

_Fuck._

Was this really happening? Was he really fucking Cas? God, if Dean had known this is what he had wanted this whole time it would have taken a hell of a lot shorter time to get here. But that wasn't important, because he was here now, and he was with Cas. 

Right where he belonged. 

"Cas... " Dean whimpered against the others mouth, pulling in shaky, shallow breathes from around the angel's pressing, urgent lips. God, he knew exactly which buttons to push on Dean, and exactly what to say to make him fall apart. The feeling of Castiel's hand on his cock was completely overwhelming, and his thoughts were flooded with a nearly painful pleasure. He didn't want this moment to end, ever. he wanted to stay right here with Cas forever. 

Finally, his body started to tense up, and he threw his head back to let out a loud, dark moan and he started to climax. Cas' lips were exploring the skin of his neck, making all his hairs stand on end, and eventually Dean's back lifted up, and his whole body shook with the intensity of his pleasure. His skin was ultrasensitive and every little touch sent sparks flitting through his body.  It was with a shout of Castiel's name, followed by soft little moans, that Dean came, hot and messily over Castiel's hand. 

"Amazing..." Castiel sighed against Dean's neck as he stroked him through his orgasm, and it wasn't long until Castiel came himself, staining the soft fabric of his boxers. The angel slumped down ontop of Dean, resting his cheek against his collarbone as both men tried to regain their breath. A heavy, warm feeling was settling into Dean's veins, and it felt like he was going to pass out. He fluttered his heavy lids to peer down at Castiel, and was struck by how  _good_  he looked. His hair was dark and tousled, framing his somewhat pale face. His eyes were looking right back up at Dean, widel,y and they were probably the brightest, purest blue he had ever seen. They glowed with a light of their own, and Dean's breath hitched in his throat. He could see the gears turning in Castiel's head and Dean wrapped his arms around him, trapping him in a tight cuddle. 

"What're you thinking about?" Dean asked lazily, his eyes locked onto Cas'.

"Lots of things." Cas replied softly. "Mostly you." 

"Come on Cas, no chick flick moments." Dean grumbled, but he couldnt keep the smile from his face. 

"Sorry." Castiel muttered quietly, and the air fell silent. 

Neither of them needed to sleep, but they laid together in silence regardless. If someone had peered into the window of the car, they would have thought they'd passed out in eachothers arms.

 


	9. Interrogation

As Dean began to stir beneath him in the morning, Castiel immediately snapped out of the warm, drunken feeling that had settled into his veins. The man below him was staring widely up at Castiel with bright, happy green eyes. They made Castiel's stomach flip with joy mixed with fear and shame, and he almost had to close his eyes from Dean's brilliance. Apparently he did a good job of distracting Dean from his troubles. Forcing his eyes wide, Castiel returned the gaze.

"Hey." Dean said as he ran a hand softly up Cas' back. His fingers were tracing small patterns on his skin with a light touch, raising goosebumps wherever they went. Then, they found their way to his folded wings, where they stroked each silky feather with a gentle touch. 

"Hello, Dean." Castiel replied, sitting up. His boxers were sticky and unpleasant, and with every movement the sensation got worse. Maybe he should have removed them before he... Well...

Dean followed Castiel's actions and settled in beside him on the seats. Their clothing was strewn about the car in small little bundles of fabric, and the air was beginning to get stuffy with their breath. Pale, morning light glowed down on the two, and Castiel did his best not to look at Dean. He was practically drowning in shame, lust, and regret, and he was sure to fall in love with Dean if he looked at him again. Castiel was supposed to kill Dean. Not pleasure him.

A soft hand wrapped itself around Castiel's shoulders and the feeling of Dean's sweet breath on his neck was _almost_  enough for Cas' to forget all shame and to slink back down and finish what they started last night.

_If something did happen to my vessel, you know what you would have to do..._

Michaels voice echoed through his mind, and immediately, Cas sat straight up and began to dress himself. He was painfully aware of Dean's confused gaze bearing down on him, and he was painfully aware of what he needed to do. He was getting far too close to Dean. This needed to end. Castiel turned to face Dean, putting on a mask of indifference, and sat with his knees against Deans so that Dean couldn't get too close to him. 

"Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asked, his already wide eyes growing bigger. 

"You should get dressed. Sam is awake." Sure enough, the figure of Sam wandered past the nearest window of the house, and Dean's skin lit up with a crimson blush. Again, Castiel silently wondered why this made Dean so shy, but immediately pushed the thought away. He had to stay focused. 

"Yeah, okay." Dean slid into his jeans, and got busy dressing himself as Castiel prepared himself to speak. In the back of his mind, Cas noticed Dean hadn't put his boxers back on and the thought made the space between his legs tighten deliciously. 

No.

Stop. 

Castiel averted his eyes from Dean immediately, and focused his gaze on a little bee that was buzzing happily along the windowshield of the Impala. Bees were always fascinating. They were always Castiel's favourite beings. That is, until he met Dean. 

"I think we're getting too close, Dean." Castiel finally blurted, still focusing his eyes on the little bee.

"Whatever is between us, it needs to stop. There are things that I..." Castiel continued, but trailed off, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words. It got the point across though, so he looked to the man beside him. He was expecting Dean to be shocked, to be hurt, or maybe to get angry and lash out. To his surprise, Dean's reaction was something completely different. Instead, he just finished dressing and silently nodded to himself. He didn't even look up at Castiel as he stuffed his discarded boxers down beneath the backseat, and slid over to open the door. Just as he swung his legs out and onto the ground, Dean bowed his head and spoke to himself. 

"So, you're going to leave me like everyone else?" Dean didn't even sound hurt. He just sounded like he had expected this the whole time, and a sharp pain penetrated Castiel in every inch of his body. 

"Dean..." 

_Slam!_

Dean shut the door and all but stomped into Bobby's house, leaving Castiel hurting alone in the Impala.

In a flutter of wings, he was gone. 

~~~

As Dean stormed into the house, Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. The younger winchester was seated quietly at the couch, watching the news on the TV. The colt was still sitting up on the top of it, and Sam eyed Dean warily as he slammed the door behind him. When Sam opened his mouth to speak, Dean let the dam inside his soul break, releasing the demonic darkness he had subconciously buried away. All he felt was a stupid jealous anger that tinted his vision with red. Sam immediately got to his feet and groped his hands around on the TV for the Colt, and set his jaw back in a determined, somewhat frightened expression. 

"Dean." He said surprisingly softly. "What happened? Where were you?" 

Dean practically hissed, aware that his eyes had shifted black. Cas was using him, Dean could tell. He had experience with this sort of thing, and he could spot it from miles away. The angel was easier to read than a book.

"I was just out with Castiel." He said bitterly as he drawed on his demonic powers to pull the colt from Sam's hand. Satisfaction coursed through him as it flew out and landed neatly in his own grasp. "I think there's something he's not telling us."

~~~

Castiel landed in his meadow in heaven with a hard thud, purposefully landing hard against the ground. This paradise was its usual bright, cheery self, but still the soft grass beneath Castiel didn't offer it's usual comfort. Castiel utterly despised himself for what he was going to do to Dean. Sure, breaking their small, shaky relationship off was one thing, but now actually thinking of going through with his orders? He felt sick. 

"Castiel. It's good to see you." Michael's hard and obviously angry voice broke Castiel from his thoughts, and he lept into the air with his fright. his wings beat just as fast as his heart, and he was breathing in startled little gasps. 

"How's Dean?" He asked with a knowing look. His great wings had never been so intimidating to Castiel, and the younger angel fell back to the ground at the sight of them. 

 "I do not know, brother." Castiel held his hands up, clearly aware of Michaels violent intentions. 

"Are you sure, Castiel? You know I do not appreciate it when you lie to me."  His gaze hardened, and from behind him Michael drew a long, silver angel blade. Heart pounding, and his skin slick with sweat Castiel stumbled back away from Michael. He was breathing hard, and eyeing Michael with wide, scared eyes. 

"Michael, brother, what are you doing?" 

"I know what you've been doing, Castiel." Michael practically glided over, stepping on Castiel's overcoat, trapping him. The cold, sharp tip of the angel blade pressed down against Castiel's cheek, just barely peircing the skin enough to cause Castiel a bit of pain. A blue glow of his grace showed through the small cut, and Castiel could see it from the corner of his eye. 

"What?" Castiel stammered

"I will give you one more chance. One more. If you mess this up, the consequences will be unimaginable." In one swift movement, Michael slashed Castiel's cheek deeply with the blade, then in a flutter of wings, he was gone. 

Castiel blinked and looked around, head muttled by pain, and pressed a healing hand against his cut. It sealed quickly, and once Castiel got his emotions under control, he stood up. He needed to kill Dean. There was no choice, really. It was either that or go rogue. Thoughts of Anna flowed through Castiel's mind, and for a fleeting moment he considered following in her footsteps. She had cut out her grace, so Castiel could as well. Right? It was insane, but it might work....

The angel shook the thought off with a small feeling of disgust. How could he think that? His grace was everything. His very essence. There was no way he could part with it, even for Dean. Speaking of, Dean was probably furious with him. Or maybe he was heartbroken? No. Dean was too proud to act like a love-sick fool. Maybe he was indifferent. Castiel shrugged, and decided the best way to find out was to go down and see him. So, he flew off. 

~~~

"Dean, just tell me what happened." Sam was saying in a soothing voice. The two men were sitting side by side on the couch,  the colt in Dean's lap, and a ring of Holy Oil before them. In his left hand, Dean was toying with a pack of matches. His eyes were still black, and he was scowling into the air, paying almost no attention to Sam. Cas was lying to them. Dean could see right through the angel, and it didn't take a genius to figure out he was hiding something. Something dark. Hell, he had probably been using Dean this whole time! Dean couldn't believe he let his gaurd down around him. He let Cas fuck him - kind of. Now, feeling hurt and impossibly angry, Dean was waiting for Cas to return, so he could get some answers. 

"Are you ignoring me?" Something in Sam's voice brought Dean out of his thoughts, and he sighed. 

"No. Sorry, I was just distracted. What were you saying?" Dean spoke softly. 

"I asked you what happened. What made you flip out?" 

Dean closed his eyes with another sigh. No way he was talking about this with Sam. 

"Come on, man. You can't expect me to be on your side if you don't tell me everything." Sam rested a hand on Deans shoulder, and he immediately shook it off. 

"It was nothing." Dean groaned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Sam knew Dean so well, he was a bit surprised he hadn't really caught on yet. Or maybe he had.  

"You didnt." 

"Sam-" 

"He could have been using you! How could you be so stupid! Sam's face was outraged, and Dean narrowed his eyes at him. 

"You think I don't know that?" He snapped, and gave Sam such a dark look that the younger brother shut his mouth and looked away. 

"Well, what now?" Sam said quietly, looking down on the dark ring of oil. 

"We wait for this son of a bitch, trap him, and get some answers." Dean said with a determined look. 

~~~

 Nervously, Castiel appeared in the living room of Bobby's house. The air was nearly silent, except for the hum of the electronics in the room, and it was fairly dark despite the afternoon sunlight outside. Castiel turned, and nearly stepped back in surprise when he caught the sight of Sam and Dean standing by the couch. Both men towered over the angel, making him feel somewhat small and insignificant. Not that he'd ever show it. 

"Dean, Sam." Castiel greeted them rather stiffly, and Dean's already black eyes hardened and darkened into something so cruel looking that they almost were unrecognizable. His lips were turned up into a cold, sarcastic smile that made his entire face contort into a mask of violent anger, and for the first time, he really looked like a demon.  Castiel's veins ran cold, and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his overcoat, immediately sensing something was not quite right. 

"Cas, we need to talk." Dean said, and his tone matched his expression perfectly. With a striking movement, Dean lit up a match, and tossed it to the floor. The flame hit the oil, and in an instant a blazing circle lit up around Castiel. He eyed it warily, and gave a resigned sigh before turning his expression back on the Winchesters. His wings had been folded up neatly across his back, but now they stretched out, impressively far and high, the tops of them pressing against the ceiling. He knew only Dean could see them, but it didn't matter. 

"Okay." Cas said calmly. "Let's talk." 

"We want to know whats going on with you." Sam said softly, and it became obvious to Cas that the only reason Dean hadn't gone completely mad yet was because of him. It was good he had him. 

"What are you hiding?" Dean added in a harsh tone, reigning in Castiels attention again. The very sight of him sent Castiel's mind into a civil war of sorts. On one hand, he wanted - no, _needed_ , to help him over come this and be there for him, and on the other Castiel knew his duties. But still, the very thought of harming Dean sent a flurry of sickening waves through his body. 

"What are talking about Dean?" Castiel asked, putting on an act of innocence. He couldnt talk about this with them. They wouldnt understand. Frankly, Castiel was surprised Dean was even bothering to ask him if he knew something was up. He was more of a "shoot first, ask questions later" sort of man. 

"Don't play innocent little angel." Dean all but snarled his response, and with a blurred movement, he had The Colt pointed directly at Castiels head. Castiel  swallowed nervously. Dean was an expert shot. "Tell us. Before I get angry." 

_But Dean, you're already angry?_  Castiel silently thought to himself, but didnt speak aloud. 

The gun began to tremble, and Dean's finger tightened against the trigger. 

_Either fess up now and have an upset Dean, or stay a slave to your brothers for the rest of your life - which doesn't look to be too long the way things are going._  The little voice in the back of his head whispered, and for once, Castiel listened to it and did what he felt was right. 

He held his hands up as a sign of defeat. 

"Dean, you must understand. I had orders." Castiel began, and Sam shuffled closer towards Dean. 

"Orders?" Sam asked, his gaze curious yet angry. 

"Yes. Orders. I was commanded to kill you, Dean." Castiel flinched, anticipation the bullet that would end his life, but no bullet was fired. Dean stood still ahead of him, the gun still bearing down on Castiel. Slowly, but surely, Dean's arm drooped down to his side, and Castiel breathed a long sigh of relief. 

"Sam, can you give us a minute?" Dean asked without looking towards his brother. A startled and confused expression flashed across Sam's face, and he hesitated. 

"Dean-" 

"Sam. Please." Dean commanded, and with a look that resembled a kicked puppy, Sam nodded and stepped outside. As soon as he was gone, Dean dropped the gun and flicked his eyes back up to Cas. They were their usual green, but rather than warm and expressive, they had a vaguely dead look to them. His lips looked tense, like they were holding back a flood of words. Eventually, Dean took a breath and whispered softly. 

"You've been plotting to kill me this whole time?" He asked with a troubled voice. 

Castiel couldnt help but feel offended at the accusation, and shook his head immediately. 

"No, Dean. How could you even think that?" Castiel's voice cracked with pain and his eyes pleaded to Dean to understand. "I was supposed to watch over you at first until..." 

"Until?" 

"Until they discovered what you have become." 

"They? You mean, heaven?"  

Castiel nodded, not trusting his words and immediately dropped his gaze from Dean. He couldnt watch him anymore. It seemed his soul was linked to Dean's, and every ounce of pain he felt, Castiel felt. 

"I gotta say, Cas. I expected something worse." Dean said, and he stepped forward to the very edge of the circle of flame. "But... I think..." Dean started, but snapped his mouth closed. He shut his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath of air and scuttled out of the room. Within minutes, he returned with a bucket of water, and poured it down upon the flames. They went out with a sputter and a crack, and in their place was a ring of charred flooring. Small, twisting wisps of smoke fluttered up through the air in a elegant dance, and Castiel concentrated on them so he didn't have to look at Dean. 

Suddenly, a cold, stiff hand was cupping Castiel's cheek, turning his face up to meet equally cold green eyes. They had a distinct edge of anguish to them, and the forbidden desire to wash away Dean's pain returned to Castiel with a burning hunger. Before he could stop himself, Castiel leaned up on the tips of his feet to claim Dean's thick lips with his own. They tasted sweet and, unlike his hands and eyes, Dean's lips had a delicious warmth to them that made Castiel's stomach burn. He wound his arms around Dean's shoulders to help hold himself up at the same time as Dean's arm (that was still clutching The Colt) found its way around Castiel's waist. Eagerly, Dean's mouth opened up, letting Castiel's tongue slip in timidly, just enough to meet Dean's with a spark. Too soon the kiss was over, and Dean had his forehead pressed against Castiel in the same embrace they had shared just the other day. His eyes were closed, but his arm slid up from Castiel's waist to pry a hand from his shoulders. In their place, Dean placed the hard hilt of The Colt, and he closed Castiels fingers around it. Wide blue eyes peered up at Dean with a shocked expression. What was he doing? 

"Cas..." Dean said softly, eyes still closed. "Please." He directed Castiel's now armed hand up to press the tip of the gun against the underside of Dean's chin. At this angle, the bullet would shoot straight up to Dean's brain, ending his life with a quick blast. The angel trembled and tears began to pool in his eyes and tighten his throat. 

"No" He whispered nearly silently, and his voice broke with the hint of a sob. "I cant-"

"Please?" Dean's eyes fluttered open now, and he looked down on Castiel with utter despair. "Cas, I'm a monster. Hell, everything  _good_  about me is gone now. I have no purpose. Sam, Bobby... They don't care about me anymore. I don't blame them. I'm filth. Nothing but _dirt_. Just kill me so you can go back to heaven." 

For a moment, Castiel stayed silent. He wasn't sure what to say, and he didnt trust his mind right now. So, Castiel spoke with his heart. He had always had too much of it, might as well put it to use. He took a shaky breath, and as he spoke he felt the rightness of what he was saying.

"The Earth is made dirt, Dean. And look at it. It's beautiful. It's life, it's a home, a paradise, a miracle." Castiel paused to press his lips against Dean's in a sweet, comforting manner. "I'd choose the Earth over heaven any day." 

Dean's eyes opened up a bit, and the coldness in their depths began to defrost.

"Cas?" 

The angel silenced him with another touch of his lips. 

"Dean, you're my Earth. My world." 

Silence was what followed, but neither of them seemed to mind. Castiel had said all he needed to, and Dean was left flustered and in a state of shock. His lips were stuck against Castiel's, and he seemed to cling to him in a desperate manner. It wasn't until Sam peered impatiently inside that they broke apart. 

"Guys?" 

Immediately, Castiel dropped The Colt from his hands like it had stung him, and stepped back from Dean's embrace. 

"I've got to go-" He stammered, feeling a prickle of fear at Sam's obviously jealous and angered eyes. 

"Cas, wait, I-" 

Before Dean could finish, Cas had taken off, leaving him with nothing but the taste of Cas' mouth on his lips. 


	10. Sweet Dreams

For the next few weeks, Castiel visited Dean only in his dreams.

Dean would take sleeping pills every night, just so he could fall asleep and steal a few hours away with Castiel. He didn't need sleep, but this was their only shot of being together, so he took it. Castiel thought it was nice, of course, but it wasn't the same as actually being with Dean.  _Actually_  tasting him on his lips and  _actually_  hearing him cry out his name. No matter how much he wanted to go and see Dean in person, he had to stay hidden from Heaven's sight. And if they were going to look for Castiel, going to Dean would probably be their best shot of finding him. 

One particular night, Dean was dreaming he was driving along a never-ending stretch of highway that was framed with bright, vivid bushes and trees. ACDC was humming quietly through the speakers, as Sam always demanded Dean keep the volume down, and Dean was singing shamelessly along. 

"Hello, Dean." 

The car swerved with Dean's fright, and he struggled to get it back in control. 

"Fuck!" Dean panted. "Cas, don't sneak up on me like that." 

Dean's cheeks lit up in a familliar blush, and the sight of it made Castiel's lip part in a tiny, awkward smile. 

"My apologies." Cas said, staring intently out the windshield. The sky was darkening above them, and the very first hints of stars began to peep out from the last, dying rays of sunlight. It looked beautiful, Castiel thought. Too bad it wasn't real.

Castiel wasn't aware of it, but Dean was watching him out of the corner of his eye, trying to memorize every detail of his face, his mannerisms, everything. Dean was just worried Cas would vanish, like he sometimes did. 

"I miss you." Dean mumbled as he drove, eyes returning to the road. The words carried softly throughout the car and echoed slightly around Castiel. Dreams sometimes did that, and it made things get pretty hard to understand at times. Castiel turned his head and squinted his eyes in a confused manner. Why would he miss him? He was here right now. 

"But Dean, I'm here right now." Castiel repeated his thoughts. 

"Yeah, Cas, I get that." Dean laughed. His words were strained though, like he was holding a lot back. "I just wish you could actually see me. In person. This dream crap... Its not the same." 

"You know I can't...." Cas sighed. They had gone over this a thousand times. 

"Well, is there anyway you could, I don't know, work your angel mojo and make me hidden from heaven too? I could come and stay with you, wherever you are." Dean turned his eyes on Castiel with a hopeful look. This was really important to him it seemed. 

"What about Sam?" Castiel asked. "Don't you want to stay with him?" 

Dean's happy, hopeful looked turned to one of pain, and he looked away immediately. The skin of his hands paled as he gripped the steering wheel harder, and Castiel reached out to press a soothing hand against his shoulder. He shouldnt have brought Sam up. 

"Sam and me.... We're not getting along so great. He doesn't trust me. I don't even think he really thinks of me as a fucking person anymore." Dean's eyes narrowed as he spoke, and Castiel wished he could do something to help. Family was everything to Dean, and he couldnt watch him loose his brother. 

"I need some time away from him. Just to get my head straight, and let him cool down. The kid's such a hot head." Dean continued, and he swerved the car off to the side of the road with a sudden jerk. He parked, and shifted in his seat so he could give Castiel his full attention. 

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked again, furrowing his brow. 

"Of course." Dean reached out and took Castiel's hands in his own. "Please, Cas." 

The angel sighed and eventually nodded. 

"Okay, but it will have to be quick. I'll see you in a few minutes." Castiel said, and with a tender touch of his palm, he sent Dean into conciousness. 

~~~

Dean awoke with a sharp gasp. He struggled to sit up, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Why was it whenever Cas woke him up that he freaked out? He shook his head, and rubbed absently at his eyes. They burned slightly and his throat felt completely parched. 

"Hello, Dean." Castiel's voice caught his attention, and Dean looked up from the couch to see his angel handing him a tall, cool glass of water. He took it eagerly, and downed the entire thing in one go. Cas was looking down on him with what he assumed to be a fond look, and Dean gestured for him to sit. Outside, it was snowing heavily and the sky was a dark, blue-black. There were no stars shining out, most likely from the heavy cover of clouds. 

"So, what's the plan?" Dean asked, looking Cas over. He looked the same as always, maybe a little dirtier, but still the same. 

"Just sit still." Cas huffed, and he placed an outstretched palm against Dean's chest. Immediately, searing pain scorched through his muscles, straight to the bone, and he let out a long, pained groan. Forunately, the pain was over soon, and Castiel pulled back. Dean couldn't quite catch his breath, so he shot the angel a questioning look. 

"Enochian sigils. I carved them into your ribs. They will hide you from all angels - including me" Cas said in a hushed whisper. 

"O-okay" Dean panted, and he drew in a long breath.

Suddenly, Cas whipped his head around, and peered into the darkness of the hallway. 

"We have to go." He said in a rushed voice. "Sam is up. He won't be happy to see me." With a touch of his forefinger, Dean was sent to the cab of the Impala. He blinked rapidly, and it took a few minutes for his mind to catch up with what had happened. 

Soon after, Castiel joined him, and without a word the angel wrapped his arms around Dean. 

"Are you sure?" He asked again, and Dean returned the embrace. It felt so good to really hold him again. He took in the smell of Castiel, and implanted it into his brain for a rainy day when he needed some comfort. 

"Yeah." Dean mumbled without hesitation. He loved Sam more than anything, but right now it was causing both of them too much pain to be together. He didn't want to bring Sam down with him into insanity. Bobby, well, he was still fine but he always acted with caution around Dean, like he was a ticking time bomb. It bugged the crap out of him. 

Too soon, Castiel pulled away, and settled into the passenger seat. 

"Okay, Feathers, lets go." Dean smiled, started the engine, and pulled out of Bobby's. He had no idea in hell where he was going to go, but Dean decided maybe looking for a hunt would be the best idea. Sam could handle the heavy stuff, so he left The Colt and Ruby's Knife back in the house. 

~~~

"Where are we going?" Castiel asked as they hummed along the long, stretch of highway. It reminded him of Dean's dream, and it gave him a comforting sense of peace. 

"Wherever." Dean said, and looked over at Castiel with a smirk. "I was thinking we could do a little hunting." 

Castiel sat up in his seat, all but buzzing with excitement. 

"Hunting?" He grinned. "I could be a hunter?" 

Dean laughed and reach a hand out to rest on Castiel's thigh. The touch sparked against Castiel, and his skin suddenly went ultrasensitive. He wished Dean would just pull over and take him right there and then. 

"Yeah, you and me, feathers. What do you say?"

"I'd very much enjoy that." He smiled, and leaned over to press a sweet kiss to the crook of Dean's neck. The skin under his mouth was soft and warm, and it smelled like leather and whisky, with a faint hint of a sweet cologne. Dean didn't reply, but Castiel could feel his smile. The roar of the car lessened, and Castiel looked up in confusion. The road was coming at them slower, and Dean gentle eased the car over to the side of the road. As they came to a full stop, Dean turned and cupped Castiel's face in his hands. The touch was nice. Warm, and very comforting. Immediately, the angel leaned into Dean's hands. 

"Why did you pull over, Dean?" He asked in a low voice, afraid if he spoke too loud the moment would be over. Dean just smiled. 

"I can't focus on the road with you next to me." He murmured as he began to close the space between their lips. His breath was hot and wet against Castiel's skin, and the space between Castiels thighs tightened and grew heavy. He shifted, but no matter how he sat he couldnt get comfortable. 

"Oh." 

Dean leaned in and shaped his lips gently around Castiel's, but his tongue forcefully found it's way into Castiel's mouth. It was slick and hot, and the way it twisted around his own made his head spin. He craved more, and with a guttral moan, Castiel twisted his hands around Dean and threw him into the backseat. He landed with a soft grunt, and a squeak of leather and Castiel practically pounced upon him. As he moved back, Castiel's foot knicked the volume dial on the radio, and soon the cab of the car was filled with the sound of The Rolling Stones "Gimme Shelter". Neither of them paid any attention to it, but it was a nice addition to the moment. Silently, Castiel began to strip in time with the music and below him Dean's eyes widened and his mouth parted with lust.

"Cas...." Dean groaned as soon as the angel had slipped out of his over coat. With trembling and eager hands, Dean began to swiftly unbutton Cas' dress shirt. He had expert fingers, and it didn't take long for the soft white fabric to fall into a little pool of cloth on the floor of the car. Now, Castiel was in nothing but his pants and tie, which Dean seemed to appreciate. He leaned up, wound an arm around Castiel's neck and pulled the Angel down to meet his lips with a ferocious kiss. As their lips locked, Castiel began working away at Dean's clothing, and it wasn't long until they were sprawled out overtop a sea of plaid and denim.

Dean's skin was amazing, and Castiel couldn't resist letting his hands explore its smooth surface. Sure, he had countless scars, but Cas didn't care. They were a part of who Dean was. One scar in particular, though, made Castiel's erection burn and throb even more intensely. It was the print of Castiels hand, and it's dark colours laid neatly across Dean's hip. Castiel smiled at the sight of it. He remembered leaving it there when they shared their first kiss. 

"Kiss me." Dean mouthed, and Castiel wasn't aware he had pulled away to gawk at the shape of his handprint on Dean. Obliging, he bent back down and claimed Dean's soft, wet lips with his own and let his hands roam across Dean's naked body. The hard yet silky feeling of Dean's cock was pressing against Castiel stomach gently, leaving wet little marks of precome against his skin and it sent electric shivers down Castiel's spine. He needed Dean, and he needed him now. 

Not bothering to undress fully, Castiel unbuttoned and pulled down his fly so he could pull his erection out. It sprung free in a quick bounce and Dean immediately let his hand slide down to grab hold of it and squeeze its base with a soft pressure. Pleasure sparked up Castiel's body, and he suppressed a low groan that was pressing the back of his throat. God, he couldnt wait anymore. He craved the feeling of Dean's hand stroking up his cock, and he craved the perfect "o" Dean's lips made when he was cumming. Christ, Castiel just craved Dean. 

"Move your hand." He all but snarled. Then, Castiel found his own way down to Dean's painfully hard erection. Dean's hand immediately began to move, first in small, tentative glides but soon their pace quickened to erratic pumps. With trembling legs, Cas could feel himself start to get close. He mumbled incoherently to himself and shook his head in time with Dean's hand. With a cry, Castiel arched his back, and he pulled his cock out of Dean's hand. He didn't want to come yet. He had so much more he wanted to do.

First, he cupped Dean's balls in his hand, smoothing his fingers over the delicate skin until Dean hissed and arched his back up, his hands finding their original position around Cas' shoulders. Nails dug into his skin, and Castiel grunted against the small pain it caused him, but he didn't mind. If anything, it made the experience sweeter, and he lowered his face from Dean's lips to his neck. He loved how Dean's skin tasted, and even more than that he loved how easily he could make him scream his name. Alternating between sucking and kissing with his mouth, Castiel let his lips wander down even farther than Dean's neck, only stopping until he felt the small, soft bud his nipple. Castiel let his tongue flick out and tease Dean, making him squirm and pant furiously beneath him. 

"God, Cas, just suck my dick already." He said impatiently, and he dug his nails deeper into Castiel's skin. 

The angel laughed darkly against Dean's skin and let his blue eyes flick up to lock with Dean's. His hand slid up, squeezed the base of his dick and he flicked his tongue out again. 

"With manners like that?" He purred around Dean's skin. "No." 

Dean groaned and threw his head back against the leather seat. His knees had bucked up, and his ankles looped themselves behind Castiel's back as soon as the angel's hand met with Dean's cock. He was shaking against Castiel, and small whimpers were escaping his lips as Castiel teased him. 

"What do you want Dean?" Castiel whispered huskily against Dean as his mouth moved on from his nipple, and down to flick his tongue down and around his bellybutton. He arched up and moaned out his response. 

"You" 

"You have me. What do you want, Dean." He repeated, letting his mouth kiss and suck the skin above the base of his cock. 

Dean groaned loudly, his voice overpowering the music, before he mumbled his response. 

"Blow me, cas. Please, oh god, please." he rambled, tightening his legs around him. 

"Beg for me, Dean." Again, he let his tongue flick out, just barely touching the skin. Goosebumps broke out across Dean's sensitive and flushed flesh, and he shivered again. Cas loved how he could so easily make Dean's hands tighten on his shoulders, and how easily he could make him mumble Cas' name like it was the only word he knew. 

"Cas- Oh, god Cas, please." He rambled, arching slightly off the leather seat. Against the dark of the car, Dean looked as if he was glowing, and Castiel took a moment just to relish in the sight of him. This beautiful creature was  _his._ "Castiel. Please." Dean's words were getting softer, and he pressed the side of his cheek down against the seat. 

"Since you asked so nicely..." Castiel purred, slipping himself out of Dean's arms so he could reach down to sit between Dean's legs. The demons legs were shaking, and Castiel placed his hands on them to steady them. Eagerly, Dean spread his legs and let his hands grip the seat in a death grip. He was panting, and he had lifted his head from the seat to watch. 

Cas lowered his head down, and eyed Dean's erection, trying to decide where to start. Dean's mumbles were turning to sharp hisses, so Castiel let his eyes flick up and meet with Dean's. A devilish grin spread across his face, and he let out a filthy chuckle before timidly letting his tongue taste the very tip of Dean, exploring the silky feel of him. Tentatively, he pushed the head of Dean's erection into his lips, alternating between sucking and licking, and the sounds that were coming out of Dean's mouth were awfully dirty, and they made Castiel's stomach drop deliciously. He laughed around Dean, and slowly sunk his face down, taking him further in his mouth. 

"Fuck" Dean hissed, and he brought his hands up to fist in Castiel's dark, messy hair. They curled, clutching desperately onto Castiel's scalp as his mouth slowly began to bob up and down along Dean's shaft. The skin slid smoothy across his tongue, and Castiel let his eyes flutter close as he worked Dean into a crumbling mess. He was mumbling nearly silently, and it wasn't long before Dean was shaking as he came, hot and heavy in Castiel's mouth. 

"God, Cas..." He panted as the angel swallowed quickly, and pulled away. Dean was laying in a flushed heap across the seats, and his skin was speckled with beads of sweat. They reflected small points of light, and Castiel smiled down at him.

"Stop staring." Dean pouted, sliding up to a full siting position. He was breathing heavily and leaning in close to Castiel. Heat radiated off of his skin, and with a gentle kiss, Dean stepped over the seats and rustled around in the glove compartment of the Impala. Castiel cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes. 

"What are you doing, Dean?" He asked breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off Deans ass. 

"Grabbing something." Dean smirked naughtily over his shoulder, and soon closed the glove compartment with a click. Buzzing with excitement, Dean slid back down, and rather than resuming his spot on the seat, he slunk down onto Castiel's lap. His weight didn't bother Castiel, and the angel welcomed Dean into his arms happily. He didn't notice the bottle of lube in Dean's hand until he held it up in the moonlight for Cas to see. 

He took the hint immediately, and his cheeks blazed up. 

"Dean..." He began, but the demon silenced his words with a wet, messy kiss. 

"I want this." He said in a husky voice, 

"Are you sure we're ready for this?"  Cas looked uneasily at the bottle. This was a big step, and Castiel had never really gone  _that_  far with anyone. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had only really lost his virginity to Dean a few weeks ago, 

"Yeah." Dean grinned, and with a flick of his thumb he popped the bottle open. "I'm sure. Babe, please." At this point, Dean leaned into Castiel's ear, nipped his earlobe gently and whispered; "I can make you feel things you've only ever dreamed about." 

His breath was moist and hot as it blew across his skin, and Castiel shivered. He was tempted, and the thought of Dean stretching around his length had him almost drooling. 

"Let me ride your cock..." Dean hummed against his skin. Castiel was sure he had a smug grin on his face. The curve of Cas' erection layed up across his stomach, leaving wet little patches of precome against his skin. Dean eyed it hungrily, and turned the bottle over, pouring the thick liquid out onto his fingers so he could start stretching himself out with his fingers. His hand moved slowly, teasingly, and Cas watched in a hypnotized state. As Dean slipped the first digit inside, he let his eyes shut tightly and his lips parted slightly in a silent moan. Castiel's hands found themselves gripping Dean's thighs in a firm grip. 

"Shit..." He gasped quietly, eyes wide as he watched Dean work his next finger inside of himself. Cas couldn't look away, not that he watched to, but it was as if he was trapped. 

"Okay.." Dean panted as he slide his fingers out of himself for the last time. Again, he poured out a generous amount of lube out onto his hand, and this time rather than spreading it across his hole, he lowered himself down to slick up Cas' dick. The touch was a spark of electricity that sent a wave of pleasure out around his over sensitive skin, and the angel trembled slighty, though his grip on Dean was still strong and steady. It wasn't long until Dean had Cas slick and ready, and he positioned himself just above him. In a slow, gentle movement, he lowered himself down onto Cas and threw his head back as his length filled him. The feeling was unimaginable, and Cas groaned heavily. His entire body was shaking and he slammed his pelvis up to meet the warm, tight feeling of Dean atop him. The demon laughed, low and seductive, like dark chocolate, and he grinned devilishly. 

"Do you like this?"  He asked in a strained whisper as he began to rock his hips against his angel. The music had ended a few minutes ago, so the only sounds in the air were those of skin against skin and the ragged breathing of the two men.  Suddenly, Dean slammed himself down harder with a loud grunt, and Cas' eyes popped wide as electricity sparked voilently through his body. His skin crawled with his pleasure and he arched his back off the leather seat below him. Thick lips pressed themselves to Cas' neck and sucked - hard. He gasped and bowed his head, mumbling the only word that was coming to his mind. 

"Dean!" 

"Shh..." Dean murmured, burying his face down in the soft skin of Cas' neck. The angel could feel Dean moaning silently, and occasionally his tongue would flick out and taste Cas. "I've got you, Feathers." He sighed between heavy pants.

"Dean, I-" Cas whimpered, shaking and twisting under the weight of his pleasure. He hadn't known any feeling like this in all his life. And finally, Cas understood why he hadn't really been attracted to anyone before this. Dean was always meant to be his, always meant to be in his arms and draw these sounds and emotions out of him. Dean was always his, and he always would be... 

"Forever..." Cas hadn't meant to speak aloud, and he hadn't really realized he had until Dean smiled against him. 

"Forever, Cas." Dean grinned. 

They spent the rest of the night in eachothers arms, and it wasn't until long after the break of day that they were back on the road. 


	11. Thin Walls

Sam laid blissfully asleep in his bed nearly all night, relishing in the rare opprotunity he had to get a decent, full nights sleep. He was so soundly asleep that he didn't even hear the soft, muffled footsteps and hushed voices out in the living room. That is, he didn't hear them until a loud, panicked gasp echoed throughout the building. Immediately, Sam shot up and gazed frightenedly around the room. 

"Dean." He said, almost as if it were a reflex. Dean was in pain. Something was happening. With nearly silent footsteps, Sam got up and strode over the the desk on the other side of the room, grabbed the nearest pistol, and peeked out the bedroom door. The air was dark and his vision was blurred with sleep. At first he could see nothing but soon his eyes adjusted to the deep black of the room, and Sam caught the barest hint of a trenchcoat hanging down the side of the couch. 

"Castiel?" He muttered blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. What was he doing here? Sam hadn't seen him since the night they trapped him in the holy fire, and frankly, he wasn't looking forward to hearing from him. Castiel had betrayed them. It was going to take a lot more than a short absence for Sam to forgive him. 

Just as the name left his lips, Castiel whirled his head around and looked directly at Sam. His gaze was soft and inquisitive, and Sam detected the barest hint of an apology in their depths. Something was up. Before Sam could walk out and confront him, Castiel turned again, muttered something, and in a flutter of wings, both he and Dean were gone. 

~~~

"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" Bobby asked the following morning as the two sat down at the table for  a breakfast of delivery pizza and coffee. There were absolutely no signs Cas had been here the previous night, and all that was left of Dean was his discarded blanket and an empty glass of water on the table. 

"Yes, Bobby. I'm sure." Sam huffed as he picked at his pizza. It was practically a heap of grease and old cheese on his plate. He would have preferred a salad, but this would have to do. 

The older man across from him shrugged as he took a long drink of his coffee. 

"Alright. All I'm saying is we haven't really been treating Dean the best lately..." Bobby said between bites of his breakfast. He was watching Sam with careful eyes, and he was using that tone of voice that made Sam feel like a kid who had done something wrong. He squirmed in his seat, and let his pizza fall from his hand and down onto his plate with a soft thud. 

"What're you saying? You think we  _drove_  Dean away?!" The very thought made Sam physically ill, and the worst part was deep down he knew it was true. He couldn't meet Bobby's eyes, so instead he looked down and pretended to be facisnated with the greasy heap of food on his plate. Bobby shrugged again, and sipped silently at his coffee. It seemed as if he didn't want to have this conversation either, but regardless he carried on. 

"He just needs some time to cool off. We can't imagine what he's going through." Bobby said softly. "Imagine how you'd feel in his place." 

Bobby's last words his Sam hard, reminding him painfully of how he felt when Dean had acted when he found out about the demon blood, and he sighed audibly. Dean could never handle things like this, and his way of dealing with tough stuff was alcoholism and violence. 

"How're we supposed to kill Lucifer without Dean?" Sam asked, his voice suddenly rising up with panic. Dean had always been Sam's source of answers, and now without him he felt lost. 

"One thing at a time, boy." Bobby said soothingly. "We'll figure this out." 

For some reason, Sam doubted it. 

~~~

The following day was hot and muggy, despite the thin layer of snow on the ground. the sky was a brilliant blue, and right in the centre of it was the blazing sun. It beat down on the impala, turning it into a sort of green house. Cas was wet and sticky with sweat, and Dean laying over him didn't help much. 

"Dean." Cas groaned, shifting and squinting his eyes against the sun. "I'm sweaty." 

A low laugh rumbled in Cas' ears and Dean pulled back away from him. 

"I noticed. Do you want me to move?" 

Cas bit his lip. This felt really, really nice. He wanted to feel Dean's skin against him... But he was just so uncomfortably warm. 

"Well - no and yes." He wrapped his arms tighter around Dean's slick waist, and grinned shyly. "I like the feel of you." 

The smile that broke out over Deans face warmed Cas from his head to his toe and he couldnt keep himself from chuckling slightly in complete bliss. There was nowhere else he would rather be, despite the temperature of the car, and the unfortunate situation that Cas was in. Dean was, by far, the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

"Well, Feathers, I like 'the feel' of you as well, but  _damn_  I'm hot." Dean hoisted himself off of Cas' lap, and slunk down beside him. He dressed quickly, and pecked Cas' neck with a small kiss. "Besides, we had better get going. Someone might come 'round thinking we're broken down or something."  Dean laughed, and climbed up and into the drivers seat of the Impala. With a turn of the keys, Dean started the car up and grinned devilishly as it roared beneath him. The entire car began to hum. 

"You better get dressed, Feathers. No motel will take us in with you looking like that." 

Castiel looked down at himself, and immediately his face flamed up in embarrassment. He had no shirt on and his tie was hanging loosely off his neck. It was wrinkled and there was a small stain of what Castiel could only imagine was Dean's... 

"Oh.." He huffed somewhat breathlessly. "I- I think I need to wash my tie." 

From the drivers seat, Dean laughed and shook his head. 

"Yeah yeah, we'll do that later. Just get dressed. We gotta go." 

 Following Dean's instructions, Castiel dressed somewhat clumsily and resumed his spot in the passengers seat. The Impala was purring, and it growled ferally as Dean switched into drive and pulled back out onto the road. 

~

As they drove, Castiel watched Dean intently. He admired every fine hair, each crease, and every single freckle that reminded him of flowers in an empty field. He admired Dean's full, pouty lips and his big doey eyes. It seemed every last bit of humanity he had was shining through, burning out to the world. There was nothing in his gaze or face that hinted at what he really was. He looked as human as ever. Castiel smiled. 

_His humanity is burning away, Castiel..._ The quiet voice inside his head sneered suddenly, making Castiel jump up from his slouched, cozy position in the seat. Dean glanced worriedly over. 

"You doin' okay, Cas?" He asked, green eyes flicking back and forth between the road and the angels face. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest, and he felt ill. 

"Yeah." Cas said steadly, settling back down in the seat with forced nochalance. As right as the words felt, Castiel couldn't believe them. He had to have faith in Dean. Dean was all he had left.

Dean didn't seem convinced, but he let it slide, and turned back to the road. As he did so, 'Renegade' by Styx started to blare through the speakers, and Castiel wrinkled his nose. He didn't care for this "rock" music. 

"Dean... Can I ask you something?" Castiel said somewhat softly, but just loud enough that Dean could hear him over the music. 

"Sure."

"Why is it that you're so..." He began timidly. "Well, that you're so  _human_." 

Dean bit his bottom lip softly, but didn't turn to face Castiel. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Cas." he said stiffly.

"I am nowhere near human, Dean." Castiel huffed impatiently. "Just, please, answer this for me." 

Dean stayed silent for a long time, staring somewhat angrily out the windshield. His jaw was set back, and he was grinding his teeth down against eachother. Castiel noted how much better Dean looked when he was smiling, and so he reached a hand out to touch Dean's cheek soothingly. The demon leaned into it immediately, and he fluttered his eyes closed for a moment. 

"Cas-I..." He murmured hoarsely. "It's so much harder than you know." 

"I know, Dean. It's okay." 

Dean drew in a long breath.

"It's like... I'm constantly fighting off this... This.. darkness inside me. All the time." Dean bit his lip. "Its not like I  _am_  a demon, its more like I'm  _possessed_  by one. Does that make sense?" 

Castiel nodded, and furrowed his brow worriedly. For now, at least, Dean was mostly human. But how long was that going to last? 

"I promised I'd fix this, Dean." Castiel reminded him. 

Dean snorted sarcastically, his expression suddenly turning bitter, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. 

"Yeah, great job with that, by the way." 

"Excuse me?" 

"I mean, have you even looked around for a solution?" He shook his head, and his lips twitched up into a sneer. 

Castiel was rendered speeachless, and he looked at Dean with a dark expression. Was he _really_  going to do this? Now? After everything? A burning hot rage grew up inside Castiel, and in a blurred movement, he latched onto the steering wheel and directed the car to the side of the road. Dean sputtered, and slammed down on the brakes. 

"Cas! What the hell!" He cried as the car squealed beneath them, coming to a hard and jerky stop. Dean's chest was rising with panicked gasps, and he was gripping his seat tightly. The angel moved his hand from the wheel to wrap itself around Dean's throat in a firm hold. It wasn't tight enough to choke him - Castiel wouldn't dream of hurting Dean - but it was strong enough to show his strength. The air was silent, save for Dean's frightened breathing and the humm of the engine. Castiel brought his face in close to Deans, almost as if he were going to kiss him, but instead looked directly into Dean's eyes.  

"Listen here,  _boy_." He all but snarled. "You don't know what I've done for you. You don't know what I've thrown away for you." His hand tightened, and Castiel pressed his forehead harshly against Deans. 

"Cas-" Dean gasped, but the angel cut him off. 

"I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it - all of it, for  _you._ "  With that, Castiel dropped Dean, and settled down back in his seat, keeping his back straight and wings tall, showing his anger and offence. "You should show me some respect." 

~~~

As Dean and Cas pulled up to the cheap motel, both of them were fuming silently to themselves. Cas was completely still, even his black feathers stayed where they were. Dean, on the other hand, was squirmy and scowling. It was a ridiculous sight. 

The Impala shut off with a soft, fading putter and Dean didn't waste any time. He shoved his way out the car door, and back to the trunk where he kept his spare bag of clothes and toiletries for times like this. The car fainty shook as he rumaged around. Finally, he grabbed his bag and slammed the trunk closed. As he walked back to the room, he paused by Cas' window. 

"You coming in?" He asked somewhat gruffly through the glass. His words were muffled, and it took Cas a minute to comprehend them. With a flutter of wings, he popped up behind Dean. 

"Of course." He said with a monotone voice.

The demon jumped slightly and set his jaw back, holding in a smartass comment. With a deep, steadying breath, Dean sauntered into the motel room with Cas' on his heels. The door swung open with a faint creak, and the two men were blasted with musty, foul smelling air, and Cas wrinkled his nose. Their room was decorated with cheap, mid-80's wallpaper and stained furniture, but Dean acted as if he could care less. Of course. Cas had forgotten he had grown up in rooms like these. Setting aside his displeasure, Cas stepped in and shut the door quietly behind him. Dean looked up from his bag that he's thrown onto the king sized bed, and gave Cas a dark look. 

"Come here." He demanded, and Cas almost laughed. Dean thought he could boss him around? Did he not know how much stronger he was than him? 

"I'm not going to ask twice, Cas." Dean all but growled, throwing off his coat. It fell onto the bed in a heap of leather, and Cas looked at it with narrow, curious eyes. Obviously, Dean was very serious about this, so putting aside his frustration and hurt, Cas obliged. 

"There we go." Dean hummed, pulling Cas in for a tight hug. His breath was warm as it glided over Cas' ear and the angel shivered. 

"What are you doing, Dean?" Cas asked nearly breathlessly. 

Instead of a straight forward answer, Dean chuckled darkly, and let his hands slide down from his waist to grab at his ass. Castiel jumped slightly and his cheeks flushed. 

"You think you're the only bossy one?" Dean asked, pulling back just far enough that he could look into Cas' eyes but still have a firm grip on him. He was expecting to meet warm green eyes, but instead was faced with black holes. Dean grinned, and lowered his face down to practically consume Castiel. His lips were hot and needy, grabbing and taking exactly what they needed from Castiel, and he liked it. He really liked it. Castiel moaned around Dean's mouth, opening up just enough to allow Dean's tongue to snake in and curl around his own. He tasted of whisky. 

"Your mine." Dean hissed as he drew his teeth along Cas' bottom lip, nipping and sucking roughly, possesively. Cas fluttered his eyes open in shock, and was neatly hypnotized by Dean's black holes that were baring down on him. Was he staring this whole time? Cas blushed. 

"Undress. Now." He commanded, and eagerly, Cas followed his orders. It didn't take him long to get down to his boxers, and with Deans hands guiding his own, Cas pulled them down to expose his already hard cock. At the sight of it, Dean smiled widely. 

"Hard for me already?" He smirked as he threw Cas down onto the bed beside the bag. He landed with a suprised 'oof' and his wings were folded painfully under his body. As Dean started to work his own clothing off, Cas stretched them out so they spread over the bed, the ends drooping down off the sides. It felt good to reach them out after having been stuck in that car. 

Dean stood compleley naked in front of Cas, looking down with a burning, black expression. His eyes wandered over Cas' body, and for a moment his cheeks flamed up with embarrasment.

"De-" Just as the sound started to leave his lips, Dean nearly pounced down on him, but the only part of his body that met with Cas' was his hungry, searching lips. Too soon, he broke away.

"Did I say you could talk?" He sneered, bringing his hands up from either side of Cas to cup his face. His hands were warm and smooth against Cas' skin, and he let his eyes close as he soaked in the sensation. With closed lips, Cas leaned up from the bed to press his lips greedily against Dean's. The demon moaned quietly at the back of his throat, and lowered his hips down to drag themselves along Cas' length. The feeling was like electric sparks flitting through his skin and if it weren't for Dean's lips on his, he would have cried out. Instead, he let his eyes open again widely. Ragged breathing filled the room.

"Do you like that?" Dean whispered, pulling his hips back again so he could run himself over Cas' painfully hard cock. This time, he drove with more force making Cas whimper and bite down on Dean's lip. The delicate skin broke under his teeth, not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to cause Dean a bit of pain. He grimaced and pulled away, stilling the rhythmic movement of his waist.

"Shit! Cas..." He complained, toying the torn flesh with his tongue.

"That's for the disrespect you showed me tonight." Cas hummed smugly, and before Dean could reply, he wrapped his arms up around his neck and pulled him down so he could nip sweetly at his lips, almost like a silent apology. Dean settled back into the touch and his breath spread between the two of them like a heavy mist. It pricked at Cas' skin, and with his right hand Cas reached down to squeeze Dean's ass. He laughed quietly at Dean's little surprised gasp, and ran his tongue along the ragged bite on Dean's lip.

"Fuck me Dean" Castiel practically begged, still wrapping his lips around Dean's. "Fuck me so good"

Dean's answer was a breathless yes, and he jumped to his feet to rummage through the bag. Cas watched with wide, glowing eyes and Dean grinned naughtily as he came upon the bottle of lube. The angel was shaking with anticipation as Dean settled back down, slicking up both himself and Cas' hole. The liquid was cold and slimy, causing Castiel's thighs to tremble even more. Dean noted this, and looked up to Cas' eyes with a worried expression. 

"Are you okay?" Immediately, his hands left Cas' skin, and he watched the angels gaze with concern. All of his previous possesiveness and anger had vanished, and his black eyes had flicked green. What a lucky man Cas was, to be given someone as caring and amazing as Dean. His heart warmed and Cas forced himself to still. 

"Just excited" He said lowly, unconciously leaning up to meet his pelvis with Dean's hand. He wanted to show him how much he appreciated him, and how much he wanted Dean. 

Dean didn't seem convinced, but he relaxed his shoulders a bit.

"You sure? If you're not comfortable with this..."

"Dean I'm positive. There is nothing in this world I want more than you. Always you." Castiel smiled as sweetly as he could, and he shuffled closer to the demon. "Please."

Dean bit his lip, and looked down at Cas. His eyes were wide with obvious lust, and his hands had resumed their places on his cock and hole. It felt so right, Dean touching him like this. He didn't ever want to leave this moment. He was in Heaven.

With a loving look, Dean hoisted up Cas' hips so he could slide himself slowly, carefully into him. He was taking care to be gentle, to put Cas' needs before his own, and to make this a memorable night for them both. As Dean filled him, Cas let his eyes slide back into his skull, and he parted his lips in a silent moan. The feeling consumed him, burning his muscles and turning his blood into a flow of electricity. Dean pulled back, agonizingly slowly, and let out a long, pleasure filled sigh. It fluttered tangible down Cas' spine, and he threw his head back against the stained sheets of the motel bed. His breathing was uneven and broken up by small groans. Slowly, Dean began to drive back in, bending over and on Cas. His voice was in his ear, whispering to him how tight he was, how perfect he was and how much he loved him. It wasn't as exciting as the commands he was giving earlier, but it was somewhat sweeter, and Cas enjoyed it just as much. Maybe more. 

"Faster-" Cas panted, pushing his hips closer in to Dean, determined to fullfill his wishes. A laugh danced across his earlobe, and Dean pressed his lips into the crook of Castiel's flushed neck. He left a wet, messy trail down each of his veins, and slowly, Dean began to thrust his waist in a steadier, faster rhythm into Cas. The sound of skin on skin filled Castiel's ears, and he dug his fingers into Dean's shoulders as waves of pleasure sparked and waved through his trembling body. His erection was throbbing in time with Dean's hips, leaking sticky precome over both of their stomachs. 

Suddenly, Dean picked up the pace, and he buried his face deeper into Cas' neck. 

"Dean!" Cas cried, hanging tightly onto him as Dean drove his pelvis deeper into Cas' hole. He was shaking ontop of him, barely holding in loud moans of his own. Dean was getting close, as was Castiel and it wouldn't be long now until both of them came. 

"Oh god, Cas" Dean mumbled, the words muffled by skin. "You're so close" 

"Dean... Dean..." Castiel's words were nearly a whisper, and finally, with a final scream of Dean's name, Castiel came. His thighs shook nearly violently and he opened his mouth in a wide, perfect "o". Afterwards, with his stomach was completely coated, he laid back. Castiel's spine arched up off the bed as Dean drove into him. Soon after, Dean came in short shaky bursts. His skin was slick with sweat, and little by little, Dean's hips stilled. With a satisfied grunt, Dean collapsed ontop of Cas and together they laid in complete bliss. 

~~~

Meanwhile, Sam and Bobby had booked their own motel room. The other man had gone to sleep already, and Sam sat, deep in thought on his queen size bed. The tv flickered in front of him, playing some shitty doctor show - Dr. Sexy or something like that - but Sam was too distracted to pay attention to it. He had his head in his hands, and his thoughts were filled with nothing but worry for Dean. Sure, Sam didn't quite trust him yet, but that didn't mean he didn't want his brother around. Dean was a demon, but there was something human about him, like maybe he had a sliver of his old self kicking around in his soul. It shone through sometimes, mosty when Cas was around. Maybe Cas was the key to fixing Dean? 

"Faster-" Came a muffled, low voice through the walls. It was a sudden gasp that had sam nearly jumping out of his skin, and he got to his feet in an instant. Bobby was still sound asleep in the other bed, apparently having not heard the voice. Sam shook his head, and walked up to the wall, pressing his ear against it. A high pitched, creaking noise was drumming out an even rhythm, and Sam immediately recognized it as bed springs under strain. For a second, his mind couldn't catch up with what was happening, but when it finally did, he snorted in amusement. Apparently, someone in the other room was having the fuck of their lives. Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Sam turned to resume his spot on the bed, but that same voice stopped him dead in his tracks. 

"Dean!" It screamed, this time louder and clearer, almost as if whoever was in there was right next to Sam. It had an edge of hysteria to it, and the word rang around Sam like a never ending echoe. His blood turned cold. 

~~~

As Dean laid with Cas snugly in his arms, an intoxicating feeling of complete joy washed over him, reaching and touching every inch of his flesh. He smiled, and curled in around Cas. 

"I want this to last forever." He breathed against Castiel's dark hair. It always smelt so amazing, like fresh fruit and shampoo. It was messy, hanging around his eyes. The back was sticking up with little tuffs, and Dean lifted a hand to run his fingers through it. 

"Me too." Cas replied, resting his head tightly against Dean's chest. His breath was brushing lightly across his skin, and Dean shivered gently. Dean couldn't remeber the last time he felt this happy. A soft press of lips warmed his adams apple, and with a bright, glowing laugh, Dean lifted Cas' head and kissed him with every essence of joy sparking through his body. 

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

_  
_Outside, someone was ramming their fist against the door with an obvious edge of anger. It bolted around the two men, making them instictively spring apart.

"The hell?" Dean grumbled, getting to his feet and pulling on his discarded boxers. Behind him, he could hear Cas pull a blanket over himself. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The door sounded again, and Dean groaned. What the hell did they want? It was nearly 11 at night. 

"I'm coming!" He shouted, stumbling to the door and thrusting it open in annoyance. A blast of icy air blew into the room, along with a few flakes of snow. A dark, tall figure stood gloomily before Dean. 

"S-Sam?" Dean mumbled, stepping back in shock. The door groaned against the wind, and a large, strong hand shoved it open all the way. 

"What. The. Hell!" Sam all but shrieked, storming into the glow of the room. His face contorted with anger and betrayal, and his hazel gaze was fixed on Dean. He hadn't even noticed Cas in the bed. 

Dean leaned back in shock and he tried to sputter out an answer without much luck. 

"You leave  without a goodbye, without a note or even a fucking text, and I find you in some crap motel with some  _slut?!?"_

"Sam-" 

"I've been worrying my ass off about you Dean! You couldn't pick up a damn phone and call me? Even a text would be better than this!"  Sam was clenching his fists in white balls, and glaring Dean down. His eyes were narrow slits, and something inside Dean lit up with a burning anger. Drawing on his demonic powers, Dean slammed the door shut  with his mind and shoved Sam back a step so he could breath. The look of shock that played across Sam's face made the evil part of Dean grin, but the human part cringe.Inside his mind, Dean couldn't decide whether to be hurt, furious, or apologetic. The darkness was fighting against his humanity, and it wouldn't be long until he snapped. He could feel it. 

"I left because of you, Sam." It wasn't Dean talking anymore. It was the darkness. "You held me back. I'm better off with someone who can keep up with me," Dean gestured to Cas and grinned as he saw Sam's confused but hurt expression. "Someone like him." 

Sam shook his head, and took in a deep breath. 

"You know thats not true."  He was biting down on his tongue, and his eyes burned brightly in the low light of the room. Cas was huddled under the sheets on the other side of the room, knowing it would be best to give them space. If Dean tried to physically harm Sam, he would step in. 

Dean laughed and stepped forward. 

"Come on Sammy, think back to when we were kids. All the times I had to save your ass."

"This isn't you, Dean." Sam all but shouted, looking over to Cas who was busy dressing himself under the sheets. His face was pale and he had a somewhat worried expression. "Try and fight it, man. I know you're in there somewhere." 

"This is me, Sam." Dean huffed and he raised a hand to throw Sam back against the grimy wall. Just as he reached out, Cas was on him pulling his arm to pin it behind his back. Sam gasped and stumbled back at the sudden appearance of the angel, and Cas gave him an urgent look. 

"Draw a Devils Trap, Sam. Now!" He commanded as Dean struggled feebly against his impossibly strong grasp. He was writhing and practically snarling, his black eyes wheeling back to glare at Cas. The angel paid him no attention, and instead watched intently as Sam burnt a Devils Trap into the cheap carpet with his lighter. As he finished, Cas pushed Dean into the middle of it, and curled his lip up in displeasure. This wasn't really Dean. This wasn't the strong, caring man he knew and saved. This was the demon side of him, and apparently over time it had grown much angrier, and stronger. 


	12. Sympathy For The Devil

Dean glowered at his brother and angel from the Devils Trap. His eyes were practically seeping darkness, and his lips twisted up into a sneer that made him look more animal than human. His breath hissed through his teeth sharply, and finally, Sam broke the silence. 

"What are we going to do?" He said quietly, rubbing his fingers across his temples. He stood by the door, exchanging worried looks with Castiel. His face was riddled with lines of stress making him look much older than he really was, and Castiel frowned with pity. The poor man. All his life he was under more pressure, expectations, and impossible tasks than any human being should ever be allowed, yet he always made it through. He was every bit the Righteous Man that Dean was - or used to be - just without the recognition. 

"I don't know." Castiel said softly, turning his gaze from Sam to Dean. He tried not to let his fear and concern show through his emotionless mask without much luck. "We'll figure it out." 

Below them, Dean laughed and eased himself up to his feet. 

"I'm right here, guys." He said, and his voice was raspy and darker than before. Castiel could feel it slither down his spine as if it were a tangible thing, making him shudder with horror. The thing speaking now wasn't Dean. At all. For a moment, a flicker of doubt for Dean's recovery sparked inside Castiel, and he clamped his jaws down to keep from reacting. He had to keep his hope alive. He owed it to Sam, and the human Dean. "It's not like I magically lost my hearing." Dean continued. A sly, smug grin was still on his lips and he glided over to the edge of the trap closest to Castiel. 

"Come on, feathers, you got to admit you like me this way." Dean breathed across the small space between them. "I can see what it does to you." In a darting movement, Dean's tongue flicked out to run itself over his lips, leaving a wet trail behind. Cas shifted uncomfortably. 

"Maybe we should get Bobby." Sam said quietly, ignoring Dean. "He'll know what to do." 

Castiel nodded, and with a look of sadness, stepped away from Dean to seat himself on the edge of the bed. Dean always had weak points, like this, but they'd never been this bad. There was always the little spark of himself in there that kept the flame of Cas' hope and love alive but now.. He wasn't so sure what was going to happen this time. 

The angel hadn't even noticed that Sam stepped out of the room until he heard the creak of the door, followed by heavy footsteps stomping in. He looked up to see Bobby and Sam closing the door behind them, and walking to face the irritated Dean who was just now breaking the heavy gaze he had laid down upon Castiel. 

"See what I mean?" Sam said quietly, looking to Bobby who wore a stern look. "He's lost himself." 

"I don't know that theres much we can do." 

"Oh come on, guys! It's not like I'm a cancer patient. I'm still me just..." Dean paused to grin "New and improved. You don't have to do anything." 

Bobby clenched his fists and shook his head, and turned away from Dean. 

"Idjit." He muttered, moving to seat himself down next to Castiel, but he noticed the unruly mess of the sheets and thought better of it. Apparently everyone knew what he and Dean were up to earlier. Castiel blushed. 

"Actually, you know what?" Dean said perkily, crossing his arms over his chest. "I like being this way. It's so much more... Pure."

"No one asked for your input." Castiel snapped, then turned to the other two. "I can search for some one who might know what to do, but I can't promise any results." 

Sam nodded and sighed a long breath of air. 

"Bobby and I will hit the books." Sam said, gathering up his coat. 

"Lucifer is still out there Sam, and this time you know where he is." Castiel muttered, letting his frustration out. Even then they needed someone to watch Dean. They couldn't just leave him there. 

"Well-" Sam began "Lucifer can wait." 

"No, the angel is right, boy." Bobby said softly but firmly. "This is the only chance we got. We can let him handle Dean." 

"Bobby! This is Dean! We need to help." Sam protested. His eyes were burning with anger and stress, and Castiel wanted to reach out and soothe him, but decided against it.

"It's Lucifer! Lucifer, Sam. We need to stop him." Bobby slammed his fist against the wall and glared at Sam, letting him know the discussion was closed. 

~~~

After Bobby and Sam had left that following morning, Castiel just sat in silence on the bed. Dean's bag was open and his few clothes spilled out over the stained quilt like a pool of plaid and leather. Castiel sighed and let his head fall into his palms, and he sat like that for a long while. 

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Feathers?" Dean asked from the floor where he was sitting. His legs crossed over eachother and his hands were placed neatly in his lap, making him look like an overeager puppy. Castiel ignored him until Dean got to his feet and repeated the question.

Might as well humour him, Castiel thought.

With a resigned sigh, Castiel got to his feet and trudged over to the edge of the trap where Dean stood. He looked the same as always, except for his eyes. They gleamed down on Castiel with what he could only interpret as lust and hunger. Castiel felt very small, but he had to remember how much stronger and older he was than Dean. 

"You know, it really is me." Dean hummed as he leaned closer to Castiel. "I'm the same guy I was a day ago. Nothing's changed besides the fact I've accepted my fate." 

His breath blew out over Castiel, smelling of whisky and something sweet. It was hot and heavy against his skin, and Castiel quickly turned away from it. Dean just laughed. 

"Look at me, Feathers." Dean said, and Cas obliged. This time, his eyes were a brilliant green rather than black. "Do I look any different?" 

Cas shook his head and looked up into Dean's eyes. He knew he should be cautious but he couldnt help himself. Tentitively, Dean brought his face down as far as the trap would allow him to, and Castiel reached up to meet his lips. He kissed him softly and apologetically, trying to force every bit of his emotions in it so Dean would just understand. The way their bodies responded to eachother said more than words ever would, and a wash of warmth spread from Cas' lips all the way down to his toes. In his mind, a sudden voice broke the blissfull haze. 

You think you could run from us, Castiel?

"Wha-" Castiel gasped, stumbling back away from Dean who wore an expression of confusion and shock. 

"Cas?" Dean asked, furrowing his brow and trying to reach out of the trap with no luck. The angel knew what was coming. There was nothing he could do. With a last soft look, and a flash of his grace, Castiel was ripped from the motel room and dragged upwards by an unseen force. It was much stronger than him, and terribly familliar. In the last second, he screamed out one vital word; 

"Dean!" 

~~~

When Sam and Bobby arrived at Carthage, Missouri they were completely silent. Neither of them looked at each other, and instead gawked out the windshield. The car shut off with a turn of the keys, and a low dying sputter. 

"Sure is... Empty." Bobby said as he stepped out from the car. His face was pale with what Sam could only assume was worry - Bobby never showed any signs of fear. But, he was right, the streets were desolate and lonely, like the two men had stumbled across a ghost town. Sam's stomach dropped with unease and he followed Bobby out of the car. 

"Yeah." Sam agreed, looking around. "I guess we're in the right place?" 

The two shared a long, pained look before setting off in search of Lucifer. The handle of the Colt rested in Sam's jacket pocket, feeling incredibly heavy and cold against him and with every step it swung back and collided against his chest. His breath picked up and his heart beat in a panicked rhythm. They had to do this. Sam couldn't fail Dean again. 

~~~

When Castiel finally opened his eyes, it didn't take him long to realize where he was. He was laying on a cold, hard floor and the only thing he could see before him was a pair of impossibly clean black dress shoes. It couldn only mean one thing - He was back in Heaven's main office. 

"Hello, Castiel." A harsh angelic voice cooed to him, and a hand gripped the back of his overcoat, lifting him into the air much in the same way you would lift a kitten by its scruff. Castiel felt humiliated, but his mind was too groggy to really care.. 

"M-Michael...?" He groaned, voice thick and nearly unintelligble. His tongue felt like a slap of concrete laying uselessly in his mouth. "What are you going to do to me...?" 

The other angel laughed, and threw him down into a marble chair with no hint of restraint, smiling maliciously the whole time. A surprised grunt popped out of Castiel as he landed, hard, down in the seat and his head rolled back onto his shoulders. Immediately, two lesser angels came running, and bound Castiel to the chair. 

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Michael practically purred, and with an Angel blade in hand, he approached Castiel. 

~~~

It didn't take long for Bobby and Sam to find Lucifer, really. It was almost like he wanted them to find him, which made Sam feel all over wrong. What if this didn't work? What if Lucifer knew they had the colt, and he was using this as a shot to get at Sam? 

Sam shook off the negative thoughts, and crouched lower down in his and Bobby's hiding spot behind a large cluster of trees. They were in the towns cemetary, watching in fear and disgust as Lucifer worked away at summoning Death. Sam didn't want to think about the horrid things he must have needed to gather for this spell. With a shaky breath, Sam drew The Colt from his jacket, and handed it over to Bobby. It sat in his shaking, sweaty palm for a few moments before Bobby noticed and slipped it into his own grasp. 

"You ready?" He whispered nearly silently. 

The younger Winchester nodded and bit his lip, but he didn't make a move. His muscles were locked into place, and he bowed his head. 

"Bobby-" 

"Sam, boy, you can do this. I'm right here." Bobby comforted, resting his hand on Sam's shoulders. His words helped little, but Sam knew he couldn't dely this any longer. Forcing the fear from his mind, Sam stood, and strode confidently out into the open. Well, it wasn't really open. There were hundreds of demons all around, watching silently and unmovingly as Lucifer worked away at whatever he was doing. He had a shovel in hand, and before him was a huge, neat hole. It reminded Sam of a grave, and his stomach churned. 

"So nice of you to join me, Sam." Lucifer said nonchalantly over his shoulder as he finished digging. With a smug look, he turned and leaned heavily upon the shovel. 

"Oh, screw you." Sam practically snarled. His mind couldnt decide if it was disgusted, furious or trembling with fear. Maybe a mix of them all. His blood was pumping heavily through his veins, sounding in his ears with defeaning booms. It took nearly all his concentration to keep himself together. But Sam had to remember, Lucifer would never hurt him. He was his vessel. That's why he was doing this.. It was okay, they'd be okay.... 

Lucifer, with a look of amusement, turned back the his hole and looked on with satisfaction.

"That's it Sam, keep that fire in your belly." He laughed. "I'm going to need all that pent-up rage pretty soon." 

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Bobby appeared with the Colt aimed and ready at Lucifer's temple. It was a perfect shot, really, and it made Sam clench up inside. This was his only chance. 

"I don't think so." Bobby said gruffly, and imediately he pulled the trigger. The boom echoed out around the empty town with a certain eerie-ness, and the bullet was sent straight through his skull. Lucifer's skin crackled and burned around the hole, and he collapsed to the ground in an ashy, steaming cloud. It swirled around them like a mist, and behind them the Demon's sat still. Why weren't they moving? Wouldn't they attack to avenge their master? Their father? 

"Bobby something's not right." Sam insisted as the dust settled, exposing Lucifer's crackled face. 

"What are you talking about, ya idjit?" Bobby shook his head, and turned to leave. But, below them, the cracks in Lucifer's vessel slowly began to mend themselves, and soon, with a shocked gasp, Lucifer opened his eyes.

"Ooooow!" He groaned, throwing the two of them back with a push of his hand. His hands were massaging the area where the bullet had entered, and he struggled to his feet. "That really hurt." 

Obviously, Lucifer noticed the startled and confused look on Sam's face, and he sighed. 

"Don't feel too bad. There's only two things in the world that gun can't kill, and one of them is me." He shrugged, over his pain, and turned back to his spell, leaving Sam open mouthed and furious behind him. Before anyone could say anymore, some unseen force pulled Sam and Bobby out, plopping them back down outside the motel in which they had come from. It took a few moments for them to realize what happened. 

"What the-" Bobby said, looking around. 

"Castiel?" Sam suggested, rubbing his eyes, still a bit disorientated. Behind them, a cheery voice laughed. 

"Guess again!" 

Sam whipped around, and what he saw had him reeling with confusion.

"Trickster?" He squinted, feeling as though he was dreaming. What was he doing here? Had he done this? Was the Lucifer a fake? 

"That's it!" He smiled his dopey little smile, and rested his hands on his hips, making Sam lips twitch into a small smile. 

"Was that all-" Sam began.

"Nah, it was the real deal. I only pulled your sorry asses out of there." 

"But..." Bobby said. "Tricksters aren't powerful enough to do that." 

"This one is." Trickster said, suddenly less cheerful. "Now, we need to talk." 

With that, the three re-entered the motel room in which Dean was trapped, and a cloud of uncertainty hung heavily over Sam and Bobby. This was definitely off.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of in the process of rewriting this fic as I'm putting it up, so updates are going to be pretty unpredictable..


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